


Escape to Shell Cottage

by Chanel19



Series: Deathly Hallows Missing Moments [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23692372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanel19/pseuds/Chanel19
Summary: This is my take on the weeks spent at Shell Cottage after the trio escaped from Malfoy Manor in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. It dovetails with Back to the Burrow and From the Ashes and the beginning is lifted from a scene in From the Ashes, but then it becomes a complete story all its own.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Deathly Hallows Missing Moments [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694764
Comments: 20
Kudos: 48





	1. Refuge

Ron lifted the heavy chandelier with one hand and dragged Hermione from beneath it by the front of her shirt with the other. Covered in glass and bleeding, she groaned but didn't opened her eyes. He struggled to pull her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist, which is when he realized something was very wrong with the way her rib cage felt.

Harry shouted, "Go!"

Without thinking, Ron Apparated with Hermione to Shell Cottage. He'd never even attempted side-along before, so when they landed with a splash on the beach, he panicked. Laying her down, he ran his eyes all over her to make sure she wasn't Splinched. She wasn't, but in the bright morning light he could really see the cuts from the shattered glass of the chandelier as he knelt on the sand. Her shirt was in shreds. Her hair was full of glass. Her breathing was ragged. He had a moment of frozen panic. There so much blood everywhere. A wave rolled up the beach wetting his knees and the bottoms of his jeans and soaking her whole side. Then he remembered he was a wizard and they were at his brother's house. He glanced up and saw Luna and Dean going inside the cottage.

"Bill!" Ron shouted.

Ron pulled Pettigrew's wand from his pocket. "Mobilicorpus," he said and Hermione's body floated up. He hurried with her to the house. Fleur opened the door as he approached. "What's happened?" Bill called from behind her.

"Help me," Ron said, he glanced back to the beach to see Harry and Dobby arrive, and felt some relief. At least Harry was safe.

"Bring her in here," Fleur said. He followed her into a small bedroom off the kitchen. When he settled Hermione on to the bed she groaned again.

"I think her ribs are broken," he told Fleur. He felt panicky and his heart was racing. "I need some Dittany for the cuts, so many cuts."

Fleur put a hand on his arm. "Take a breath, Ron." She pulled out her wand and cast Diffindo, but instead of flicking her wrist she moved her wand in long strokes all the way down Hermione's body."

"What are you doing?" Ron shouted.

"Cutting her clothes off," Fleur said. "Get her boots and socks off. How are we to know how hurt she is if we can't see?"

Ron kept his eyes on Hermione's feet as Fleur used her wand to whip away the remains of her clothes. They landed in a wet heap on the floor. On top was a torn pair of pale pink knickers with a tiny bow on the waistband. Something about that little bow made him desperately sad. "They used Crucio on her," Ron said to Fleur. "Over and over." He got her boots off, and then noticed that stuffed into one of her knee socks was her beaded handbag. He couldn't help smiling at her presence of mind in a crisis.

Bill shouted for Fleur. "We've got more wounded."

"I can't do anything about Crucio," she said to Ron, as she cast a mending charm on Hermione's ribs and pressed a bottle of Essense of Dittany into Ron's hand. "I have to go. Swab all the cuts. Cast Episkey on any bruising."

Ron nodded. As Fleur left the room, Ron finally allowed his eyes to move past Hermione's feet. Of all the times he'd thought about what she might look like naked, he'd never wanted to see her like this. One of the arms of the chandelier had crushed her ribs, which were now deeply bruised, another had left welts on her shins but hadn't broken the bones. He cast Episkey on her shins and the bruises disappeared. He tried not to linger over the patch of hair at the juncture of her thighs as he assessed her. From her belly button down seemed to have been protected from the glass by her jeans and boots. He pulled the sheet up to her waist, trying to give her at least that much privacy. Most of the cuts seemed superficial but there was a prism embedded below her collarbone, and another above her left breast. The blood along the thin red line across her throat seemed to glow, so he knew that Bellatrix had used a cursed knife. There was a deep cut in her hairline that was bleeding profusely. He pulled out the stopper on the Dittany and let a drop fall into the cut on her forehead. It closed. He removed the two prisms embedded in her flesh and treated the gashes with Dittany and watched the skin immediately begin to regrow. Everywhere she was bleeding got a drop of Dittany. After a few minutes, all the cuts were gone accept the one on her throat, which stubbornly refused to close, so he taped a bandage over it. He cast a cleaning charm to remove the blood. Her breasts were bruised, no doubt from Greyback's grip on her in the woods. He cast Episkey and the bruises faded. He did the same for the heavy bruising around her lower ribs. He sighed and took one last look to make sure he hadn't missed anything. She looked serene, beautiful, as if nothing had happened. Only the wound on her neck and the old scar, from the Department of Mysteries that ran between her breasts, marred her skin. He realized he was staring and pulled the sheet up to her neck and covered her with a blanket. Then he realized how much glass was in her hair. He plucked out a piece but there were dozens more. He sat on the edge of the bed, determined to get them all.

Fleur came back in. "Have you finished?"

"Yeah, but I can't get the cut on her neck to close."

Fleur leaned over and pulled back the bandage. "That's cursed. It'll heal in time. At least it's not too deep." She put the sheet back.

Ron untangled another piece of glass from Hermione's hair.

"That will take forever." Fleur pulled out her wand and cast a charm to clean Hermione's hair. The glass all slid to the floor in a little pile.

"That's a good one," Ron said.

"Everyone with long hair knows that one," Fleur said. She ran her fingers over Hermione's scalp making sure Ron hadn't missed any cuts and then rolled her over to check her back. "All clear. Let her sleep now." Ron stood but it was hard to leave. He remained rooted to the spot. He felt like, if he stopped watching, she might slip away from him. Fleur seemed to understand that he couldn't leave on his own. She took his arm and tugged him toward the door. "She just needs to sleep now, Ron. Come on."

Reluctantly, Ron went outside to check on Harry and found him digging a grave for Dobby. Ron picked up a spade and helped. Dean joined them.

xxx

When they'd finished burying Dobby and had spoken over his grave, Ron went back inside, leaving Harry to express his grief alone at the graveside. Ron washed up and then went to check on Hermione. When she caught sight of him in the hallway, she called out to him, but his name came out as a hoarse croak.

She coughed as he came into the room. She held the linens to keep covered and tried to sit up.

"Hey, no," Ron said. "Lie back. You need to rest."

"I need to get up," she said, her voice wrecked from screaming so much. "Where are my clothes?"

Ron winced. "Gone."

Her eyes widened in panic.

"We had to cut them away because of the glass," he hastened to add. "I'm sure Fleur has something you can wear."

"Is everyone alright?" Hermione asked.

"Everyone but Dobby," Ron said. "We lost Dobby."

Hermione held a hand over her mouth. "No."

"Bellatrix threw her knife as they Disapparated. Caught him right in the heart."

Hermione shook her head. Tears started to fall.

"We buried him a little while ago," Ron said.

She looked at him, wiping the tears from her face. "How long have I been out?"

"A few hours."

"I need to get up."

"You should rest."

"I'm so stiff. I have to get up and move around. Could you get me some clothes, please?"

"Okay, let me go see what Fleur has." He was back a few minutes later with a diaphanous blue silk dressing gown.

Hermione looked at him. "Are you serious?"

Ron sighed. "She's part Veela. I'm not sure she even knows what flannel is. Oh wait," he said. "I've got your bag." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the opening of the small beaded bag. "Accio dressing gown." He handed her the flannel robe that came flying to the top of the bag.

"I need a nightgown too."

"Accio nightgown." He handed her a blue cotton V-neck gown.

"Thank you," she said. Ron turned around as she slipped the gown over her head.

"Could you help me up," she said, struggling to stand at the side of the bed.

"Maybe you should—"

"Please," she said and held out her hand. He took it and helped her to her feet. He held the dressing gown for her while she shrugged it on.

"Okay," she gasped. "Okay. I'm up. I'm okay."

He put a supportive arm around her waist and together they walked to the parlor where Harry was talking to Bill.

xxx

After they talked to Griphook and Ollivander, Ron could see Hermione was fading. She'd been very bold proclaiming her Mudblood status and arguing to Griphook that Harry was not like the wizards he'd dealt with in the past, that Harry believed in the equality of all magical beings. She'd been much quieter when they'd talked to Ollivander and now she'd gone quite pale. She stumbled as they left Ollivander's room and Ron caught her and then put his arm around her waist again.

"She needs to be in bed," he whispered to Harry.

Harry nodded. "Fine. I need to think."

By the time Ron got Hermione back to the small bedroom downstairs she was trembling all over and her teeth were clenched in obvious pain.

"Fleur," he called as he got her to the bed. As she sat on the edge, she collapsed and fainted.

Fleur appeared at the doorway. "What is it?"

"Something's happening."

Fleur walked in and handed him a glass of pumpkin juice. She took a look at Hermione who was still trembling. "It's an aftershock. Not uncommon with Crucio."

"Can you give her something?" Ron asked as Hermione let out an agonized groan.

"Nothing that would help," Fleur said sadly. "It's unforgivable for a reason. Nothing helps the pain but time."

"How long is she going to have aftershocks?"

"I don't know. How long was she tortured?" Fleur asked.

"Fifteen, twenty minutes, something like that," Ron said, pushing a stray lock off Hermione's forehead.

"Shouldn't be more than a few days then." Fleur sighed. "She's terribly thin. Harry too."

"Pickings were slim on the run," Ron said. "I had time to fatten back up while I was staying here." He shook his head. "I never should have left them." He thought about Hermione lying naked as he healed her wounds. He'd been able to see the outline of all her ribs and her hip bones jutted out. He'd never seen her naked before, so he didn't have anything to compare it to, but he was sure he'd never known her to be that thin. He'd noticed too that Harry's belt was on the tightest hole and that the waistband of his pants was bunched beneath it.

Fleur patted his arm sympathetically. "I'll go start dinner."

Ron nodded, his eyes never leaving Hermione. A few minutes later, she stopped trembling and her eyes fluttered open.

"What happened?" she asked, looking around. She tried to sit up.

"You had an aftershock and fainted," Ron said, helping her. He handed her the glass of pumpkin juice. "Drink this."

"An aftershock?" Hermione said and took a sip of the drink.

"Yeah, Fleur says you'll likely have them for a few days. You need to rest and eat. You and Harry both need to eat."

Hermione dropped her eyes. "I'm doing my best."

Ron nodded. "I know. I didn't...I'm just so sorry I left. I should have been there to help."

Hermione continued drinking her pumpkin juice and didn't say anything.

Ron got up. "I'm going to go see if Fleur has any biscuits."

xxx

As he stepped into the hall he could hear Bill and Fleur talking in the kitchen.

"We need more food," Fleur said. "We laid in supplies to feed the two of us with the occasional order member stopping by, not for eight people and a goblin.

"You're right," Bill said. "I'll go."

"No," Ron said. "I'll go. A glamour charm won't cover your scars. You're too recognizable. I'll take Dean. We'll go to a Muggle market. He knows how to use Muggle currency. His mum is a Muggle."

"I don't know, Ron," Bill said.

"I'm not a baby anymore," Ron said. "I'll be fine. Dean?" he called.

Dean stuck his head into the kitchen, "Yeah?"

"Come with me to the market, will you? We need food."

"Sure thing," Dean said.

A few minutes later, Ron had brown hair and a goatee. Dean hadn't shaved in days so he just filled in his existing beard to make it fuller and longer. "Let's go," Ron said.

xxx

When Ron didn't come back with biscuits, Hermione got up and went into the kitchen. Fleur was stirring a large pot of something that smelled delicious. She saw Hermione looking around.

"He went to the market with Dean," Fleur said.

Hermione's eyes widened. "He left?"

"It's alright," Fleur said. "They went to a Muggle market under glamour charms. They should be back soon."

Hermione nodded and went back to bed with a tight ball of fear knotted in her gut.

A half an hour later, she heard Ron and Dean come in, and she let out a sigh of relief. Ron tapped on the doorframe. "Hermione?"

She looked up.

"Hey, I'm sorry I took so long." He came in with a cup of tea and a pack of biscuits.

"Where did you go?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Just to the market with Dean. It's not like Bill and Fleur had planned on feeding all of us."

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.

"It's alright," Ron said sitting on the edge of the bed and handing her the cup of tea. "We did glamour charms and Dean was raised a Muggle. We made short work of it."

Hermione didn't look at him. "You didn't say anything. You just left."

"But only for a bit, to get food. You were meant to be resting. I…we needed food. You're so thin. Harry too. The both of you are just skin and bones." He opened the packet of biscuits and held it out to her. She looked up at him with hollow eyes. "I won't leave again without telling you," he said solemnly.

"Alright," she whispered and took a biscuit.

xxx

That night Ron, Harry, and Dean slept in the parlor, but Ron kept waking up thinking he heard Hermione screaming. She was sharing the tiny room off the kitchen with Luna. Finally, he gave up sleeping as a bad job and went outside to watch the sunrise. He was surprised when Luna joined him a few minutes later.

"I love the sunrise," she said simply and sat down next to him.

"Yeah," Ron said. "How'd you sleep?"

"Not so good," Luna said. "Hermione cries in her sleep."

Ron looked at her in alarm. "Why didn't you come get me?"

"To do what, Ron?"

"Well," he sputtered. "I don't know. Comfort her. Something." What could he do? Would she take any comfort at all in his presence anymore?

"I told her she was okay and that she was safe," Luna said. "That seemed to calm her. She didn't wake up."

Ron pushed his fingers back through his hair. "I guess that's good."

Luna nodded. "I think so."

xxx

When Ron went back into the house to put the kettle on, Fleur was already in the kitchen. He could hear Hermione moving around in her room. He went to the door to find her dressed and digging through her bag and pulling out clothes. "Hey," he said.

Hermione looked up. "Hi."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine," she said tightly and resumed pulling things out of her bag.

"Really?" Ron said surprised.

She looked back at him obviously irritated. "No, not really. My whole body hurts. Even my teeth hurt. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm sorry," he said holding up his palms. "I wasn't trying to upset you."

She dropped the bag and sighed. All the anger seemed to drain out of her. "No. I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about it."

Ron nodded. "Okay. What are you doing?"

Hermione looked down at the piles of clothes on her bed. "Our clothes are due for a proper wash, not just done with charms, so I thought while I have the opportunity, I'd do some laundry."

"I can do that," Ron said, reaching for a pile, but she grabbed his hand.

"You can do yours and Harry's if you like, but I'll do mine."

He frowned at her. "I can do them all. I know how to do laundry, Hermione. It's not like I'll mess up your clothes."

"It's not that." She let out an exasperated sigh. "I can do my own wash." She started to tremble and dropped to her knees.

"Hermione!" Ron knelt beside her and felt helpless as she clenched the sheets and rested her forehead against the bed.

"It'll pass," she gasped.

He was worried she would faint again, so he stayed next to her, but didn't touch her for fear of making it worse. When the trembling finally stopped, she was exhausted. He helped her up so she could lie down on the bed amid the piles of clothes. She was already asleep when he pulled a throw over her. There was a laundry bag on the end of the bed. He put all the clothes into it and took it out to the kitchen.

"Hermione's had another episode," he told Fleur, who was frying bacon.

She shook her head. "Poor girl." She looked at the bag in his hand. "The wash basin is in the back garden."

Ron nodded and took the clothes out to the large tub at the back of the house. He filled it with warm water from his wand and added soap. When the suds were ready he started adding clothes, separating lights and darks, which is when it suddenly dawned on him why Hermione didn't want him washing her clothes. Amid the shirts, jeans, jumpers, and socks were knickers and bras in lovely matching sets. He blew out a slow breath and tried unsuccessfully not to imagine her wearing them. Shaking his head to clear the imagine, he used his wand to agitate the clothes. He went back inside to eat breakfast while the clothes soaked in the tub. Half way through breakfast, Hermione appeared at the table. She didn't say anything about Ron taking all the clothes, so he didn't mention it either and just handed her the platter of bacon and eggs.

"After breakfast," Harry said. "I'd like you two to come upstairs and talk to Griphook with me."

Ron nodded.

"Alright," Hermione said.

"I can finish the laundry for you," Luna offered.

"Thanks," Ron said.

xxx

The conversation with Griphook was frustrating. Even though the goblin had agreed to help for the ridiculous price of the Sword of Gryffindor, there didn't seem any way to get into the Gringott's vaults without an owner present and since Bellatrix wasn't likely to show up and offer to escort them, it seemed an impossible task. After going round and round about it with the goblin, Harry finally threw up his hands and said they'd talk about it again tomorrow. The three of them trouped downstairs to find Fleur, Luna and Dean in the parlor with clothes all around them.

"Hey," Ron said. "What are you doing with our clothes?"

"Dean's been showing us mending spells," Luna said.

"Seamus' parents are tailors. They own their own shop," Dean explained. "I've learned a lot of spells about clothes from them."

"I got out most of the stains," Fleur said. "But I can't get this shirt clean." She held up one of Hermione's shirts with a brown stain covering the right side.

"Oh," Hermione said. "That's blood. I tried everything to get it out, but couldn't manage it and didn't have enough clothes that I could just toss the shirt. It's fine under a jumper." She didn't mention that the blood wouldn't come out because the bite that caused it came from Voldemort's snake, which they were sure was a Horcrux, which meant its bite was probably cursed.

"Blood?" Ron said, his eyes darting between Harry and Hermione.

"Don't worry," Harry said. "It's mine, not hers."

"How is that supposed to make it better?" Ron grumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes at him.

"You three have torn an awful lot of holes in your clothes," Luna said holding up a pair of jeans with ripped knees.

"It's hard to keep your clothes nice when you're living rough for months, Luna," Harry said.

"I suppose that's true," Luna said thoughtfully.

Hermione glanced around the room and Fleur seemed to understand what she was looking for. "The things that didn't need mending are folded on your bed."

"Thanks," Hermione said, her cheeks going warm. When she walked back into her room she found all her underwear folded by sets laid out on the bed. She put them all back into her bag and set it on the floor. She caught sight of the pile of clothes she'd been wearing at Malfoy Manor. She sat down on the floor and looked at them. The whole pile was stuck together with congealed blood that had gone brown. A pair of pale pink knickers were on top. She closed her eyes and let a wave of nausea pass, but then she had a thought and started going through the clothes, carefully separating them, and inspecting every inch. She ignored the implications of all the blood. What a state she must have been in. She was so grateful that Fleur was able to get her put right. She touched the cut on her neck which had just begun to scab over. Even though it was a thin cut, it was slow to heal and very tender. A shiver ran through her as she remembered the blade cutting into her flesh. She shook her head to clear the image and kept looking through the clothes. Finally, she found what she was looking for caught in the weave of her jumper, a long curling black hair. She held it to the light and compared it to her own hair just to be sure of what she was seeing.

Ron appeared at the door. "Hey. Oh, Hermione," he said sadly. "I think those might be beyond repair."

She glanced up at him. "What? Oh, the clothes, yes, I think it's too late for them too."

"Then what are you doing?"

She held up the hair. "I found our way into Gringotts."

Ron stepped into the room. "What do you mean?"

"It's Bellatrix's hair. I still have some Polyjuice potion."

Ron shook his head. "No. I know what you're thinking. No."

"Yes. It's the only way. How else are we going to get in?" Hermione insisted.

Ron knelt beside her. "You're still having aftershocks. You can't—"

"I'm not suggesting we go tomorrow. There's still loads of planning to do. But this is the key. This is how we get in."

Ron shook his head again. "She tortured you. You can't become her. That's…that's—"

"It's the only way," Hermione said again.

"I'll do it then," Ron said, grasping at straws.

Hermione shook her head. "You'd never pull it off. It's going to be hard enough for me and I'm already a woman. You don't know how to walk in heels. You've never spent any time with her. You don't know what she's like and she's a very specific sort of person."

He frowned at her. "Well, it's not like you two are besties or anything."

Hermione grimaced. "You'd be surprised what you learn about someone who tortures you. It's horribly intimate."

Ron looked at her, aghast at the thought of it.

She blinked back tears.

"I don't want you to do this," he whispered.

"I have to," she whispered back.

Fleur shouted then for everyone to come to lunch.

xxx

Lunch was an awkward affair. Griphook and Ollivander were still taking their meals in their room, so that left seven people squeezed around the table. Harry flatly refused to discuss plans for the future, which left a gaping hole in the conversation. Even Luna was strangely silent. No one had much to say. Bill and Fleur attempted conversation but previous meals had been spent catching up on the news and there wasn't much left to say.

Ron cleared his throat. "This stew is delicious, Fleur."

"Yes," Hermione agreed.

Harry nodded. "Really good."

Everyone else agreed and the table fell silent again.

Finally, Bill said, "I'm glad to see you all eating. Harry, Hermione, and Luna you all look as though you haven't had a lot of decent meals lately."

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Sometimes they would forget to feed me," Luna said quietly.

Everyone stopped eating and looked at her. She resumed eating.

"I had Muggle money," Dean said to break the awkward silence. "At least I could eat in relative safety until the Snatchers caught up to me."

"I cleared out my bank account so we would have Muggle money too," Hermione said. "Although, most of the time, we were in such remote areas there was nowhere to shop. We ended up foraging a lot."

"Unfortunately mushrooms and sorrel don't have much in the way of calories," Harry added.

"I did my best," Hermione said quietly.

"She makes a pretty good herb and mushroom soup," Ron hastily added.

Hermione and Harry gave him disbelieving looks and the table fell back into silence.

"Well," Bill said, "Ron and Dean have refilled our pantry so you'll eat well while you're here."

"We'll need to get plenty of tinned food before we leave," Hermione said.

"When do you think that will be?" Bill asked, looking at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure. Hermione is still recovering."

"Why would you leave at all?" Fleur asked. "You should stay here where it is safe."

"We have a mission to complete," Harry said stubbornly.

"Ah yes," Fleur said dismissively. "A mission from a dead man. Has it not occurred to you Harry that things might have changed since he assigned you this task."

Harry shook his head. "The task hasn't changed."

"But—" Fleur said.

"Fleur," Harry said sharply. "They call me the Chosen One for a reason. I have to do this."

"But do Ron and Hermione?" Fleur asked pointedly.

Before Harry could answer, Ron and Hermione both said a firm, "Yes." The three of them looked at each other.

"Yes," Harry repeated. He finished his last bite of stew and stood to put his bowl in the sink before walking outside, closing the cottage door quietly behind him.

"Bloody hell," Bill muttered and pushed his fingers back through his hair.

Ron and Hermione stood and put their own bowls in the sink.

"I need to lie down," Hermione said.

Ron nodded. "I'll go check on Harry."


	2. Settling In

Ron saw Harry walking down the beach and jogged to catch up to him. "Hey," he said as he slowed his pace to match Harry's.

"Hey," Harry said.

"I'm sorry about that," Ron said.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't start it."

"I kind of did when I stayed here after I left. I wouldn't tell them where I'd been or what I'd been doing. It made them crazy. Showing up again brings it all back."

Harry sighed. "I wish I could tell them, but I can't."

"I know," Ron said, tucking his head to his chest and stuffing his hands into his pockets as a defense against the cold breeze coming off the ocean.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Ron sighed and glanced at Harry. "About Hermione though, maybe she should stay here."

Harry stopped and looked at him. "You can't be serious."

Ron looked at his feet. "She's not well."

"We won't go until she is," Harry said firmly. "We have loads of planning to do before then anyway. We still haven't figured out how we're even going to get into Gringott's."

Ron looked at him. "Actually, Hermione has that covered, but I don't think we should let her do it."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Do what?"

Ron stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away. "She found one of Bellatrix's hairs. We still have some Polyjuice potion."

Harry's eyes lit up. "That's brilliant!"

Ron shook his head. "One of us should take the potion."

Harry gave him a withering look. "You honestly think one of us could pull off being a woman?"

Ron kicked at the sand. "She shouldn't have to turn into her torturer. Don't you see how wrong that is?"

Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Of course, I do. All of this is horrible, and as much as I'd like nothing more than to tell her to stay here, there are two problems with that."

Ron looked at him.

"First, she wouldn't do it. Second, I can't do this without her. She's resourceful in ways neither one of is. You know that. Look, I love both of you. I don't want anything to happen to either of one you. I hate that she was tortured, but Ron, this is bigger than us. We have to stop him, by any means necessary. Hermione knows that."

Ron sighed. "I know that too. I know you think I don't, because I left, but honestly I wanted to come back the moment I Disapparated, but I couldn't find you until she said my name."

Harry squeezed his shoulder. "I know and I know you don't want to lose her. I don't either. I want us all to live until we're old and gray and crotchety, but we'll never get there if we don't stop him."

"I know," Ron said softly, "but I had to ask."

Harry dropped his hand. "I know. I'm sorry I had to say no."

Ron nodded and they trudged back to the cottage.

xxx

The rest of the day was quiet. Ron, Harry, Dean, and Luna took turns playing chess and cards. When Hermione woke from her nap, Harry motioned for her and Ron to join him in talking to Griphook about the new plan. They talked until dinner, after which they joined everyone but Griphook and Ollivander in the parlor to listen to Potterwatch on the wireless.

While everyone listened intently, Ron watched Hermione. She was across the room from him sitting in the corner of the sofa with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She seemed very small. He watched for any signs of another aftershock, but none came. She'd braided her hair the way she had the entire time they'd been on the run. Perhaps that was a sign she was feeling better. Ron hoped so. She caught his eyes on her. His first instinct was to look away, but instead he gave her a slight smile. She gave him one back before looking away. His heart soared at that little smile. He hadn't seen one since Malfoy Manor.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he knew now wasn't the time. She had been so firm that using the Polyjuice potion to get into Gringott's was the right choice and she'd been active in the conversation with Griphook this afternoon like she was her old self. It had been both heartening and heart wrenching to see. Harry was right. Hermione would never stay behind in the relative safety of Shell Cottage. Her commitment was unwavering. He fervently wished his had never wavered. Now, with the locket gone and no longer whispering its evil in his ear, it was harder and harder to fathom why he'd left. He ached with the shame of it and wondered if she could ever really forgive him. More than anything, he wanted to prove himself to her, to prove to her that he could be the man she needed, that he wasn't just a stupid kid anymore. He shook his head. He was so ashamed of himself: ashamed that he'd walked out on their mission, ashamed that he'd wanked in the shower to thoughts of her naked, ashamed that he'd seen her naked and she had no idea. He'd heard her thank Fleur for taking care of her, so he knew she assumed Fleur had done all of her healing, not just mending her bones and leaving Ron to do the rest. He knew he should tell her. Maybe she would even appreciate his efforts, but he thought it was more likely to embarrass her instead, which would probably make her angry. He didn't know why. She was absolutely lovely. He wasn't quite sure when she'd gone from gawky teen to beautiful woman, any more than he was sure when he'd gone from loving her as a friend to being in love with her, but that was the truth of it. He wasn't sure what he could do about it, but that didn't make it any less true.

After the broadcast ended, Hermione excused herself and went back to bed. Luna followed shortly thereafter and it wasn't long before Bill and Fleur headed upstairs. Ron, Harry, and Dean had been taking turns sleeping on the sofa while the other two slept on the floor. It was Ron's turn on the sofa, so he settled in with a couple of quilts and tried to sleep.

He was dreaming of camping by a creek. In the dream, he'd woken at dawn needing to take a leak. None of them liked to use the bathroom in the tent. It was dark and cramped and had no privacy, so he'd slipped out of the tent to go behind a tree. He'd just finished when he caught sight of her topless and washing her hair. She turned to him and smiled and beckoned him over. He was walking toward her when she screamed. Ron's eyes popped open and she screamed again. He was on his feet and running before he was fully awake. He didn't bother knocking and burst into the tiny bedroom off the kitchen. The lamp was lit and Luna was standing in the middle of the room calling Hermione's name. Hermione had pushed herself into the corner of the bed against the wall and she was still screaming. Without thinking Ron crawled on to the bed.

"You're okay, you're okay," he kept repeating. Her eyes were closed until he touched her arm and then she looked at him wild-eyed and panting. "You're safe at Shell Cottage," Ron said soothingly. "It's okay." He sat next to her and she surprised him by climbing on to his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her face against his bare chest. She trembled all over so he grabbed a throw from the end of the bed and pulled it over her. "You're alright. Everything is okay."

Harry appeared at the door followed by Dean and then Bill and Fleur. Luna stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. "I think we should give them a minute," she said softly.

Bill and Fleur looked at each other and went back upstairs. Dean went back into the parlor, but Harry remained standing in the hall at a loss for what to do.

Luna touched the circular scars on his arm where Nagini had bitten him. "You're all so scarred," she said ethereally.

Harry looked at his arm and nodded. "Fancy a cup of tea, Luna?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "That would be good."

She followed him into the kitchen and he busied himself making tea while she got biscuits out of the pantry. They sat across from each other lost in their own thoughts while they waited for the tea to steep.

xxx

Ron pulled up his knees so he had his whole body wrapped around Hermione. She continued to shiver, but her teeth were chattering not clenched like they were during an aftershock.

"She had me," Hermione murmured into his chest.

"But we escaped," Ron said. "You're safe now."

"I'm safe," Hermione said.

"Yes," Ron said.

"I'm safe," she repeated.

He nodded and kissed the top of her head. She didn't have her arms around him. They were pulled tight against her chest, but she pressed herself closer to him, and he wrapped his arms more firmly around her. He could still hear her screaming as the memory of the events at Malfoy Manor came flooding back to him. He could feel her tears against his chest as he blinked back his own. He wouldn't cry. He would be strong for her. He could do that much. As she began to calm down he took more notice of her. She was wearing a gray and white striped cotton gown. It had a V-neck like the blue one she'd worn the day before. He wondered if all her gowns were cotton V-necks. It had ridden up some, revealing what appeared to be purple silk knickers. He'd noticed when he did her laundry that she wore much fancier knickers than Ginny or his mum. Her bras were much nicer too. Nicer even that Lavender's had been. He mentally kicked himself for thinking about Lavender's bras when he was holding Hermione. He thought about all the things he'd done with Lavender and wished he could do the same with Hermione, the same and even more. Then he mentally kicked himself again for thinking about that while she was so distraught. Do not get a woody right now, he scolded himself, hoping she hadn't felt him stir against her. That would be totally inappropriate and she might kill him. Oh, but it felt so good to hold her and her hair smelled so good. It smelled of whatever fancy French shampoo Fleur used, but beneath that was just Hermione's own scent and that made him feel warm all over. As if she knew his mind was getting away from him, Hermione pulled back.

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting up.

"Don't be," Ron said. "It was a nightmare. We've all had them."

Hermione shook her head. "We don't all wake the whole house."

Ron shrugged. "Everyone understands. You've been through a lot."

"Still," she said, standing and adjusting her gown. She crossed her arms over her breasts. "I'm sorry I glommed on to you like that."

He smiled and got off the bed. "I'm not. You should get some rest or I could make you a cup of chamomile?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I should try and get some more sleep. So should you. None of us have had enough the last few months."

He nodded. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

xxx

Ron shut the door behind him and went into the kitchen where he found Harry and Luna drinking tea.

"How is she?" Harry asked.

"Calmer now. She's going to try and go back to sleep."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair leaving it standing up in all directions. "I hate this."

"It's alright Harry. It's not as though you meant for any of this to happen," Luna said quietly.

"I know, but I still hate it."

"We all do, mate," Ron said as he poured himself a cup of tea.

"I see what you meant now, Ron," Luna said. "About getting you."

Harry looked from one to the other.

"Well," Ron said, uncomfortable talking about this in front of Harry. "It's not as though I can do much."

"You calmed her down much faster than I could," Luna said. "She calls for you sometimes in her sleep. Sometimes she cries for her mum. It's very sad."

Harry made a kind of strangled noise and pressed his hands to his face.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Luna said. "I didn't mean to make you feel worse."

Harry shook his head.

"I should go back to bed now," Luna said standing. "I'm talking too much." She slipped out of the kitchen and they could hear her close the bedroom door behind her.

Harry looked at Ron with red-rimmed eyes. "I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen."

Ron nodded. "I know. Hermione knows that too and you were right. We can't do this without her."

Harry nodded. "I wish we could."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Me too."

xxx

Just before dawn, Hermione woke from another dream, but this one was decidedly different, and left her with another ache entirely. In the dream, she had been back in Ron's arms, but this time when she felt him twitch against her, instead of getting up, she'd kissed his chest. He'd bent his head down and she'd cupped his face in her hand and captured his lips with hers. He'd opened his mouth to her and slid his hands beneath her gown, and then in the way of dreams, they were naked stretched out on the bed, but it wasn't the narrow bed in Shell Cottage but instead they were in her double bed at home, she was on top of him and he looked into her eyes and moved inside her, and she woke up. She pushed her hair off her forehead and looked at the clock: five-thirty-five. "Bloody hell," she muttered and shifted her hips and sat up. Luna was still asleep on the other side of the room. Hermione blew out a frustrated breath. Alas, these weren't the curtained beds of Hogwarts and she just wasn't comfortable taking care of herself with Luna in the same room. She slipped out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown, and walked barefoot over the cold floor to the bathroom.

She started the shower running and got undressed. She caught site of herself in the mirror and sighed. Ron was right. She was just skin and bones. All her ribs were outlined against her skin and her hipbones jutted out unattractively. She'd lost at least a cup size and her stomach was now sunk in instead of slightly rounded out, which just made her hipbones stand out more. She wondered how long they would stay at Shell Cottage and whether she'd have enough time to put on some weight. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water soak into her hair and run over her body, reminding her of why she'd come in here in the first place. Pressing her forehead against the cool tiles, she rested one foot on the edge of the tub and slipped her hand between her legs. She thought about the dream and Ron's arms around her last night and how good it had felt to lie against his naked chest. Why was it so difficult with him? Boys in general didn't make her nervous. Dating Viktor for the second half of fourth year had left her much more confident about herself than she had been before. After all, Viktor could have any girl he wanted and he chose her, not because she was beautiful, because she wasn't, not like Ginny or Cho or even Lavender. She knew she was somewhat attractive and smart and even funny sometimes, and Viktor had recognized that. She'd blossomed in his recognition. If only she had wanted him as much as he had wanted her. But while she might have been the one Viktor would miss most, she just didn't feel that way about him. When they had stolen moments together down by the lake or in hidden spots in the library stacks, she'd felt bad that Ron would sometimes creep into her thoughts. Viktor had been a wonderful first boyfriend, older, worldly, and a gentleman. He was happy to take things as far as she wanted but never pushed beyond that. If she'd been in love with him, he would've been perfect. Alas, it seemed despite her best efforts at discouraging it, her heart wanted Ron.

Ron. He made her crazy. He was frustrating, insufferable, and so bloody thick sometimes, but then he could be kind, clever, and brave. Sometimes, when he looked at her, she was sure he wanted all the same things from her that she wanted from him. Why did he have to grow up to be so tall and broad shouldered? And his hair, why did she have such a thing for gingers? Did he start that or did she like gingers before she met him? She couldn't remember, but now a ginger guy caught her eye faster than any other. It was embarrassing. And he smelled so good. Why did he have to smell so good? Last night, once she'd calmed down, she'd had the almost overwhelming urge to kiss his chest, open her mouth and taste him. She pressed her forehead tighter against the tile and bit her lip and rode the wave until her body relaxed and she slipped her fingers from between her legs and stepped fully under the shower. She washed her hair and contemplated her situation further.

Fucking Ron. He'd messed up everything. First by ruining sixth year with Lavender, which she still didn't understand, and then by leaving her and Harry in the woods. He'd broken his vow to help and now she wasn't sure she could really trust him again. It was clear he wanted back in her good graces. And it was true that she didn't say his name the whole time he was gone until the day before he came back, so maybe he had wanted to come back right away, but couldn't. What did it mean that he'd heard her voice coming from the Deluminator? It seemed like that should be significant, but even if it was, did it matter? That was about his feelings. What about her feelings? Did she still want this? She turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub, pulling a towel around her. Based on a few minutes ago, her body still wanted him, but she could hardly trust her body to make a responsible decision. She'd learned that the hard way in Spain the summer after fifth year when she'd wound up in over her head with a Muggle boy she barely knew. Then again, Ron had rescued her with an invitation to spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow, and she'd been so awful to her parents, they'd actually let her go. She was sure at the time that it was the start of something special between her and Ron and it had seemed to be initially. Sure, it was going slow, but it was going, right up until Harry pulled that stunt with the Felix Felicis and Ron kissed Lavender in front of the entire common room. She sighed and wrapped her head in the towel and slipped her dressing gown back on. She pressed the towel trying to get as much water out of her hair as possible.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had it cut. Even braided it now hung to the middle of her back. She'd never let it get that long before. She looked again in the mirror and saw that her cheeks were hollow and there were still dark circles under her eyes. She might have been kind of attractive before, but the gaunt girl looking back at her from the mirror fell far short of that. Alas, there was nothing to be done about that now but sleep as much as she could, and eat as often as she could, until the whole roller coaster started up again. She opened the bathroom door to find Ron standing in the hall.

"Oh," Hermione said, startled.

"Uh, sorry, I just needed—" His cheeks flushed.

"I'm done," she said quickly.

"Right," he said and stepped into the bathroom closing the door behind him.

Hermione stared at the door for a moment. She had the urge to follow him, press him up against the door, find out what he'd learned from Lavender, and show him some of the things she'd learned in Spain. She shook her head and went back to her room to get dressed. Fucking Ron. He was making her crazy.

xxx

She got dressed and went into the kitchen to help Fleur make breakfast. Luna was slicing a loaf of bread. Fleur was putting bacon on the griddle, so Hermione got the eggs out of the icebox and began cracking them into a bowl. When she'd finished whisking them, Fleur said, "You have very nice underthings. Surprising for an English girl."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the backhanded compliment. "Uh, thanks, I guess. My mum has a thing for nice lingerie, so I guess I do too."

"Have you ever been to Aubade in Paris. It's a wonderful lingerie shop," Fleur asked as she flipped the bacon.

Hermione chuckled. "Actually, I have. It's one of my mum's favorites." It felt good to think of something happy involving her mum. She missed her parents so much.

"Mine too," Fleur said. "They have such lovely things."

"Yes, they do," Hermione agreed as she started scrambling the eggs. "I have a scarlet set from there."

"I thought that was Aubade when I was folding it," Fleur said. "I have several things from there. Bill loves them," she said nudging Hermione with her shoulder.

Hermione could feel herself blush, but she couldn't help wondering if Ron shared his brother's taste in lingerie.

Fleur seemed suddenly to remember Luna was in the room. "Have you ever been to Paris, Luna?"

"No," Luna said. "Father doesn't care for cities when we travel."

"Oh," Fleur said.

"There are some nice lingerie shops in London too," Hermione said. "Have you been to Bravissimo. They have very pretty things."

"I haven't," Fleur said.

"You should. You'd like them," Hermione said.

"Ah," Fleur said. "If only we could go today. Remember when shopping was a simple thing?"

Hermione nodded. "Mum and I used to go on every break."

"Us to," Fleur said. "How about you Luna?"

"My mother died when I was young," Luna said simply. "Daddy was never a big one for clothes shopping. We only go once a year."

"Oh," Fleur said awkwardly. She glanced at Hermione for help.

"We should go," Hermione said. "After all this is over. It'll be fun, a real girl's day out, with mani-pedis and shopping."

Luna looked up at her. "I've never done that."

"All the more reason we should," Fleur said.

Luna smiled at them. "Alright then. When the war is over we'll go out."

"Fantastic," Fleur said.

"Absolutely," Hermione agreed.

xxx

When Harry came into the kitchen he was surprised to see all three women smiling and chatting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Hermione so relaxed and it was nice, even if was a bit odd for her to be so comfortable around Fleur and Luna. He never thought she particularly got on with either one.

"Have you read anything by Chloé Delaume?" Fleur asked.

"I haven't," Hermione said.

Luna shook her head and started buttering the bread.

"Do you read French?" Fleur asked Hermione.

"I do, but I'm probably a little rusty. It's been awhile," Hermione said.

"I'll loan you one of her books. She writes beautifully, very lyrical."

"That would great. It would be nice to have a novel to read instead of just spell books."

"It would be nice to read something just for fun," Harry said from the doorway. "Do you have any English novels?"

"But of course," Fleur said. "Bill and I both do. You should look at the bookshelf in our bedroom. I'm sure you could find something of interest. You too, Luna, if you'd like."

"That would be nice," Luna said. "I'll look after breakfast."

"Me too," Harry said.

"Could you call everyone in, Harry," Fleur asked.

xxx

The wind had picked up all morning and now a steady rain was pounding the cottage. After breakfast, Fleur took Harry, Hermione, and Luna upstairs to look for something to read. While they were all upstairs talking, Ron turned to Dean, "Feel like helping me make lunch for everyone? Ron felt bad that Fleur was carrying so much of the burden of preparing food. She baked loaves of bread every morning, and so far, had cooked all the meals while also caring for Ollivander and Griphook.

"Sure," Dean said. He'd been drawing in a notebook he'd purchased when they'd gone to get groceries. Ron had always liked Dean. He was easy going and drew really funny cartoons when they were in school. A little while later, when everyone returned to the parlor, Ron noticed that Luna and Harry each had a book, but Hermione had three. _Typical_ , he thought.

A few hours later, while everyone was reading, Ron stood and Dean got up too.

"What have you been drawing?" Ron asked as they walked into the kitchen.

Dean shrugged. "Just stuff around the cottage." He set the notebook on the table and got out a loaf of bread. "Are we just making sandwiches?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "I thought I'd warm up the leftover mutton from last night.

Dean nodded and got out a loaf of bread that Fleur had made and began slicing it while Ron got the mutton out of the icebox.

"I used to love your cartoons," Ron said.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. I've been working on more realistic stuff lately though."

"Yeah?" Ron said, as he sliced the mutton. "Like what?"

"Well," Dean said. "I drew this picture of Luna sitting on the beach the other day." He opened his notebook and showed the picture to Ron.

"That's really good," Ron said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Dean smiled. "It's not like that. I like her, but I don't fancy her. Not like you with Hermione."

Ron felt his ears go hot and he cleared his throat. "Oh, well..."

Dean chuckled. "Seriously mate? It's been obvious for years. When are you going to do something about that?"

Ron busied himself slicing an onion. "It's complicated," he said.

"Sure, it is," Dean said. "You sound just like Seamus talking about Lavender."

"Are those two together now?" Ron asked, getting a frying pan out of the cupboard. He'd feel less guilty about Lavender if she was somewhere happily dating Seamus.

"I certainly hope so," Dean said. "I haven't seen them in months, but he's fancied her for ages. He went completely off his nut when you two dated last year."

"Well…" Ron muttered, but Dean didn't seem to notice his discomfort.

"That was so weird," Dean said. "I never knew you fancied her. You never even mentioned you thought she was pretty when we'd all sit around talking about girls."

"Well," Ron said awkwardly. He didn't want to tell the truth, that Lavender had completely surprised him with that kiss, that he'd never really fancied her, but decided to go with it to get back at Hermione for snogging Krum. "She's a pretty girl," he said weakly.

"Course," Dean said. "All that blonde hair and big baps. Pretty different from Hermione though when you think about it."

Ron looked up sharply. "Hermione's beautiful." He hadn't meant it to come out so harshly. Hadn't really meant to say it at all.

"To be sure," Dean said quickly. "Just really different than Lavender. It's odd that you'd fancy both of them, don't you think?"

Ron frowned. "Ginny fancied you, Michael, and Harry, and I don't think you three have that much in common."

Dean held up his palms. "Point taken."

"Nothing wrong with a little variety," Ron grumbled. He used his wand to light a fire under the frying pan and dropped in a knob of butter while Dean buttered the bread.

"So, have you heard anything from your sister?" Dean asked casually.

"No," Ron said as he began sautéing the onions.

"So, she and Harry?" Dean said.

Ron looked at him. "You'd have to ask Harry or Ginny that."

"Right," Dean said. "Right."

Ron dropped the sliced mutton into the pan with the onions until the onions were soft and the meat was heated through and browned at the edges. "Call the bookworms in for lunch, will you?" he asked Dean. "I'll put the sandwiches together."

A few minutes later, all of them trooped into the kitchen.

Fleur got a bag of crisps out of the pantry and everyone sat down and grabbed a sandwich.

xxx

After lunch, they all scattered. Ron and Bill settled into a game of chess. Fleur took Griphook and Ollivander some lunch. It was a beautiful day outside. The wind had died down and the light was perfect so Dean went out on the front porch to sketch. Harry was up on the cliff with his hands in his pockets looking out at the ocean. Luna was looking for shells by the water. Hermione was sitting cross legged on an outcrop with one of Fleur's books in her lap. Dean had seen her many times in much the same pose in the common room or out by the lake. Knowing her powers of concentration, Dean figured Hermione was his best bet for sitting still long enough for him to finish a good sketch, so he began to draw. The afternoon wore on and Hermione didn't move except to turn pages. Luna went inside to take a nap. Harry went for a walk. Bill and Ron continued playing chess and Dean continued drawing while Hermione read. He was finishing up his drawing when he noticed Hermione lurch forward and grimace. Dean stood and stuck his head inside. "Ron, I think there's something wrong with Hermione."

Ron was on his feet and running in a flash, his long legs quickly covering the short distance to where she was sitting. Dean could see Harry down the beach. It was clear that Harry had seen Ron running because he started running too, but Ron was way ahead of him. Dean watched as Ron slipped his arms under Hermione's shoulders and knees, pulled her against his chest and started walking her back to the cottage. Dean held the door open for him and noticed that she had his jumper clenched in her fists and her face pressed into his chest. Dean thought it was a good sign that she hadn't passed out. Everyone watched anxiously as Ron carried Hermione into the bedroom off of the kitchen. Dean hoped she'd be okay.


	3. Rallying

Luna woke from her nap when Ron pushed the door open with his foot. She scrambled to her feet as Ron lay Hermione down on the bed. "She's had another aftershock." 

"What do you need, Ron?" Luna said.

"Could you put the kettle on?" Ron said just to get her out of the room. He noticed Luna close the door behind her and was grateful. "You're alright," he whispered to Hermione. "It'll pass. You know it'll pass."

She made a kind of strangled groan through clenched teeth and didn't let go of his jumper, so he was left bent forward over her.

"It's okay," he said again, trying not to put any weight on her for fear of making it worse. She was curled in a tight ball and her side, so he put a hand down on either side of her to support himself and waited. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"I know it hurts," he said gently, "but it'll pass. We just have to wait it out."

She nodded, her jaw still clenched shut.

Ron knew it was a probably good that she hadn't fainted the last two times, but it was worse to watch her go through this conscious. The last time she'd had her eyes closed and her face pressed into the side of the bed, but this time she watched him. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. She seemed to need him, so he held her gaze. He knew the pain had passed when she opened her mouth and her eyes began to flutter.

"You okay?" Ron asked.

She nodded, her eyes drifting closed. "Thank you," she whispered.

Ron grabbed the throw from the end of the bed and placed it over her. He sat and watched her fall asleep, before slipping quietly from the room, closing the door behind him.

When he stepped into the kitchen he was greeted by five anxious faces. "She's sleeping now," he said and sat down at the table next to Bill.

Harry handed him a cup of tea and turned to Fleur. "I thought you said these episodes would stop."

"They will Harry. It's only been a few days."

"Well, how much longer?" Harry said crossly.

Fleur shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'm a medic not a healer, but from what I understand, it shouldn't be much longer."

Ron sighed. "At least she's not fainting anymore, although in some ways it's harder to watch her go through it conscious."

Bill put a hand on his shoulder. "Not fainting is a good sign though."

"Absolument," Fleur agreed. "This might even have been the last time, Ron. You have to take heart."

"Right," Ron said, standing. "I need some air."

Harry stood for a moment looking at the others before he followed Ron out. He found him down by the water, picking up pebbles and slinging them into the sea.

"She'll be fine," Harry said.

"Sure," Ron said.

Harry sighed and took a different tact. "I would think carrying her in a little while ago probably sealed the deal for you being back in her good graces."

Ron slung another pebble out into the water. "She thanked me."

"Well, there you go then," Harry said smiling.

"She shouldn't have. I don't deserve it."

"What are you talking about?" Harry said, his smile fading.

Ron shook his head. "I saw her naked."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What? When?"

"When I brought her back from Malfoy Manor. She was covered in glass from the chandelier. Fleur cut her clothes off so we could see where all she was bleeding."

"I'm sure it was just for a second until you left the room."

Ron shook his head. "Fleur cast the spell to mend her ribs, but then left the bottle of Dittany with me to take care of the cuts."

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Right."

"But if she was all bloody, surely…" Harry offered weakly.

"But then she wasn't after I healed the cuts and cast Episkey on the bruises. She was just…perfect."

"Oh," Harry said again.

"I can't get it out of my mind. I feel awful that she doesn't know. It's like I've been peeking in her window." He closed his eyes. "I'm a perv. I've got to tell her."

Harry scratched his head. "You can't. Not now."

Ron looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disgust. "Are you serious?"

"Of course, I'm serious." Harry said. "Have you not been paying attention? We're planning to break into Gringott's. Gringott's! The virtually impenetrable goblin bank. You can't tell her! She's got enough to deal with right now. I need both of you in top form, not her all aggro that you ogled her naked while she was unconscious."

Ron scrubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. "It's wrong not to tell her."

"Agreed, but now is not the time. Look, she isn't even fully recovered from being tortured yet. Pretty soon, she's going to have to turn into Bellatrix and walk into that bank. She hasn't even started practicing with the wand yet. We haven't figured out how we're going to get Griphook in. Now is not the time."

"What do you mean she has to practice with the wand?" Ron asked.

"She hasn't touched it," Harry said. "Haven't you noticed she hasn't done any magic since we got here."

Ron furrowed his brow thinking about it. "You're right. Maybe I should give her Pettigrew's."

Harry shook his head. "You took it off him directly. It has allegiance to you. It's a better fit for you than her."

Ron shook his head.

"Didn't you hear a word Ollivander said?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"I did, but—"

"She just needs to practice with it like I did with the blackthorn. I was waiting to bring it up until she felt better, but it needs to be soon. We need to finish planning the break-in and get going. We can't stay here forever."

Ron shook his head again. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Why not?" Harry said. "We broke into the Ministry, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but that didn't exactly go well, and this is a million times harder," Ron said.

"Right, which is why we're planning it so carefully."

Ron blew out a frustrated breath and pushed his fingers back through his hair. "I just feel so guilty."

"Well, it's not like…you didn't touch her, did you?" Harry asked quietly.

Ron turned on him. "No! Bloody hell, Harry! I'm not that much of a perv."

Harry held up his palms. "Alright, alright! I'm sorry. Look, she was hurt. You took care of her. That required seeing her naked. It's hardly unforgivable."

"If it's so forgivable, then why can't I tell her?"

"Because it's Hermione, and I don't know how long it will take for her to forgive you, so we can't risk it. It's not a big deal. Let it go for now."

"It may not be a big deal to you," Ron muttered. "I just wish—"

"I know what you wish," Harry said kindly. "Believe me, everyone knows what you wish."

Ron cut his eyes at him. "Everyone? You think Hermione knows?"

"I think Hermione isn't nearly as thick as you are sometimes."

"You think she feels the same way?" Ron asked quietly.

"I'm sure she did, at least until…" Harry trailed off.

"Until I left," Ron finished for him.

"She's come around about that," Harry said.

Ron shook his head. "We're friends again. That doesn't mean she still…you know."

"Yeah." Harry shook his head. He sighed. "I don't know what she wants now, but I do know that the priority needs to be getting the Horcrux out of the LeStrange vault. Can we just focus on that, please?"

Ron nodded. "Sure." He frowned. "We should have just gone after the bloody Elder Wand."

Harry glowered at him. "We've been through that, and Hermione agrees with me, you know."

"Oh," Ron said. "Are we pretending this is a democracy now? Are we voting? Or are you still the bloody Chosen One calling all the shots."

Harry frowned.

Ron waved him off. "Forget it. I'm just…this isn't about you."

Harry sighed. He squeezed Ron's shoulder sympathetically. "I know." He walked back to the house.

xxx

A couple weeks passed in slow monotony as Hermione healed and they spent days holed up with Griphook in the tiny room off of the kitchen. The goblin had begun drawing maps of Gringott's. They went over them looking for the best possible path to the LeStrange vault. Ron hated being in the cramped little room with its red curtains drawn to keep the room dark the way Griphook liked it. The goblin seemed more and more revolting by the day. He was bloodthirsty and dismissive of wizards and anyone else who wasn't a goblin. They couldn't be shot of him fast enough for Ron's liking. More and more he didn't mind that they were going to double cross him on the sword.

When they finally broke for lunch, Ron couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Hermione was still upset that they were planning to deceive Griphook and Harry was just anxious in general, so lunch was a quiet affair. Neither of them spoke much and left Luna, Dean, Bill, and Fleur to carry the conversation. Griphook was reluctantly taking his meals with the rest of them after Fleur had put her foot down about catering to him now that his legs were completely healed. Bill had explained things to the goblin, but Griphook never said anything at the table. Ron wished they'd just let the goblin eat in his room. They already had to spend too much time around him and now he was ruining mealtimes too.

After lunch, Hermione announced she was going for a walk.

"I'll go with you," Harry said. "We need to talk." The way he said it left no room for anyone else to offer to join them, even Ron. He frowned at them as they walked out of the cottage.

xxx

Hermione didn't say anything to Harry as they walked down the beach. She'd actually hoped Ron would offer to join her, so she could work on him over this plan to deceive Griphook. Harry walked solemnly beside her until they were out of sight of the cottage.

"You need to start practicing with her wand," he said quietly.

"What?" Hermione said.

"You have to. You need to be good with it before we leave. It'll take some time since you didn't win it from her."

"That's certainly true," Hermione said grimly.

Harry pulled Bellatrix's wand from his coat pocket and held it out to her.

Hermione stopped walking and looked down at it.

"Take it," Harry said.

Hermione shook her head. "I can't." Even the idea of it revolted her.

"You can. It's just a bit of wood. It even has the same core as your wand. You just need to get used to it."

Hermione clenched her hands into fists and curled them tight against her body. She shook her head again. "I don't want to touch it."

Harry sighed. "I know, but there's no way Ron or I could pull off being Bellatrix. You have to do it, which means you're going to need to use her wand."

Hermione backed away from him and continued shaking her head. She felt cold all over and started to shiver.

Harry tucked the wand back into his coat. "Hermione," he said, stepping toward her cautiously. "It's okay." He put his arms around her, but she could barely feel him. He was speaking but there was such a roaring in her ears that she couldn't hear him.

xxx

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He'd seen Hermione fall apart. He'd seen her sobbing. He'd seen her vengeful and violent, but he'd never seen her like this. She seemed frozen and locked in place. He held her against him and tried to think what to do while she shivered in his arms. She wasn't responding to him in any way. He wasn't even sure she could hear what he was saying. He was about to cast his Patronus to go fetch Ron when she seemed to come back to herself. She stopped shaking and stepped out of his embrace.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, but I will be."

He nodded. "Of course, you will." He reached into his coat. "Do you want to try—"

"No," she said quickly. "Don't. Not today. I can't face it today. I know I need to. I will. Just not today."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Not today."

"Not today," Hermione repeated and started back for the cottage.

xxx

The rest of the week went by in a slow grind. The three of them continued to spend hours every day holed up in the tiny room downstairs going over the plans for breaking into Gringott's. Ron had suggested that they get Griphook into the bank by putting him and Harry underneath the invisibility cloak. Ron would be glamoured as one of Bellatrix's toadies, and Hermione would be Polyjuiced into Bellatrix. It was a solid plan, but for one problem, Hermione still wouldn't touch Bellatrix's wand. Every day Harry asked her and every day she refused. He'd left the walnut wand on Hermione's nightstand, and she hadn't moved it or mentioned that he'd done that. To make matters worse, whenever any of them tried to have a conversation in the house, Griphook would appear. Unfortunately, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, so they were all stuck indoors as rain and sleet pounded the cottage. Hermione seemed to shrink further and further into herself whenever they weren't actively conferring with Griphook, and the tension between Harry and Ron was so palpable, that everyone but the goblin was giving them a wide berth.

Finally, there was a break in the weather, although it looked ready to start back up at any moment. Harry didn't care. He grabbed his coat and practically ran outside. Ron followed, slamming the door behind them. Hermione didn't notice since she'd gone to bed right after dinner. Fleur and Bill looked anxiously at each other, while Luna and Dean remained quietly at the kitchen table playing cards.

xxx

Outside in the dark, Harry stormed down the beach with Ron hot on his heels. Finally, Harry turned around and said, "What? What do you want? Why are you following me?"

"You're pushing her too hard," Ron said darkly.

"I'm not. She has to rally. This is impossible without her."

"What is wrong with you?" Ron shouted. "You know what she's been through."

"Yes," Harry said, irritated. "Actually, I do, better than you. I've been through Crucio. I know how it feels."

"Then back off," Ron pleaded.

"I can't!" Harry shouted.

"Look," Ron said, trying to calm down and be reasonable. "Maybe she just can't do this. Maybe Fleur could—"

"Fleur is in the Order!" Harry shouted. "She can't know about this!"

"What about Luna then?" Ron said, grasping at straws.

"Luna? Seriously? How the hell could Luna pretend to be Bellatrix?" Harry shouted, irritated.

"Then how is Hermione going to do it?" Ron shouted back.

"Come on, Ron." Harry said. "Hermione has a hell of a lot more in common with Bellatrix that Luna does."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ron shouted, the veins on his neck standing out.

"Let's see," Harry said, ignoring Ron's fury. "Both of them are powerful witches with crazy hair. They're both intelligent, strident, self-righteous sometimes. Come on, Ron. Hermione may not be a homicidal bitch, but she certainly can be a bitch." And that was a bridge too far.

Ron came at him with the fury of a thousand burning suns. He grabbed Harry by the front of his coat and lifted him off his feet, slamming him into the ground so hard Harry saw stars.

"You take that back, or I swear, I don't care if you are the Chosen One, I'll rip your fucking head off."

"Ron," Harry said quietly, not even trying to reach for his wand. "I know you love her. Surely, you love her for who she is. You know and I know, only Hermione can do this. We'll fail without her."

Ron's face twisted in rage and agony. "If this breaks her, I'll kill you."

Harry blinked at him. "If this breaks her, we're all going to die anyway."

Ron pushed off of him and stormed into the night. Harry lay there on the sand, catching his breath, until it started to rain. He got to his feet and dusted himself off. He couldn't see Ron, but thought it wise not to go after him, so he trudged back to the cottage instead.

xxx

It was one o'clock in the morning when Ron finally made it back to the cottage. He'd walked for hours along the beach, angry, sad, and scared. When he'd finally walked himself calm, he headed back to the cottage. He was soaked to the skin as he quietly closed the door behind him and went into the kitchen. He was surprised to find Hermione standing at the window, wearing only a cotton gown and sipping a cup of tea. She turned when she heard him come in. Taking in his appearance, she said softly, "Oh, Ron." She handed him her tea and he took it, grateful for the warmth in his frozen hands as he took a sip. He dropped miserably on to one of the kitchen chairs and sat shivering and dripping on the floor. Hermione looked at him for a long moment before leaving the room.

He was shocked to see her come back holding Bellatrix's wand. He'd assumed she'd gone to get her dressing gown. She closed her eyes for a moment and then cast a simple warming charm on him. He could feel it down to his toes. The idea that she could not even pick up the wand all this time, but she could use it to help him, moved him deeply and to his horror, he started to cry. She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his head as he pressed his face against her breast and sobbed, soaking the front of her gown with his wet coat and his tears. She pressed her cheek against the top of his head and held him until he pulled himself together.

xxx

Hermione wasn't sure what had transpired between Ron and Harry outside, but when Luna had come to bed late, Hermione had woken and Luna told her Harry had come back alone and that Ron was still outside. She'd lain down again and listened for him to come back, but he didn't. After a while, she couldn't stand it anymore and had gone into the parlor to talk to Harry to find out what had happened, but he was already asleep on the sofa. She'd gone into the kitchen and found a book of matches to light the stove, and put the kettle on. She stood at the window, watching for Ron. It was so dark outside that she knew she wasn't likely to see him, but she watched anyway. She knew the tension between Harry and Ron had been mounting, and at first, she thought it was about Harry's decision not to go after the Elder Wand, and then she thought it was just natural irritation at being cooped up with Griphook so much. She tried to like the goblin, but he was awful, and Harry and Ron liked him even less than she did. Only now, as Ron sobbed against her, did she realize the tension had been about her. They needed her to rally. She had to. So, she did. She looked down at the walnut wand still gripped in her hand. It felt heavy and alien, maybe even evil, but she could use it. She'd felt her magic slide through it with little resistance. She'd cast the warming charm because she knew she could, knew the wand wouldn't fight her, wouldn't twist the charm, but she still hated it: hated the feel of it in her hand, hated it despite the relief of finally using magic again.

Ron pulled back and wiped his face with his hands. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've gone and gotten you all wet."

Hermione bit back a smile. "That's okay, Ron," she said. "I'm going to go change and get you some dry clothes. Take those things off and lay them on the floor and I'll dry them."

She left him pulling off his coat. She changed into a dry gown and pulled on her flannel robe over it. Then she dug around in her bag for a pair of Ron's pajamas. She went back into the kitchen where he'd laid out his coat, boots, jumper, and socks on the floor. She handed him the pajamas. "Go change. I'll take care of this."

She cast a drying charm on each of the items, turned them over, and cast another. When Ron came out of the bathroom in his pajamas, carrying his soaking wet jeans and shirt, she was already hanging his coat on the peg by the door. Taking the wet things from him, she cast another warming charm on him. "Go get some sleep. I'll finish up in here."

He nodded and turned toward the parlor. He stopped at the door and turned back. "Hermione," he whispered.

She looked up at him. He closed the distance between them in two long strides and pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back and they stood there for a long moment just holding on to each other. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

She nodded against his chest. "Anytime," she said softly.

Ron stepped away and went into the parlor to settle down on the thick wool rug with his blankets, while Hermione finished drying his clothes and then cleaned up the floor with a flick of that monster's wand.

In the parlor, Harry smiled.

xxx

Back in bed, Hermione closed her eyes and imagined Ron's arms around her. In the kitchen, she'd wanted to pull his face down and kiss him, but this wasn't the time or the place. There were too many people around and too much at stake to do something so selfish that would alter the dynamic between them. Besides, she wasn't sure that's what Ron really wanted or frankly, if she did. They'd been in such close quarters for so long, under so much pressure, that it was hard to tell anymore if the feelings were real or just a byproduct of the situation. She knew she'd felt this way about him for a long time, but was less sure about the duration of his feelings. What would it be like if they were back in a normal situation? Just Ron and Hermione, no do-or-die mission, no Voldemort, would he still look at her with such longing or would his head turn again for the first bubble-headed blonde with big tits that flounced his way? She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and thought of Lavender, well-fed and vivacious. Skin and bones, Ron had said. She couldn't imagine he thought of her as he fell asleep.

xxx

In the living room, Hermione's warming charm had worn off and Ron shivered under his blankets on the floor. He wrapped them tighter around him and wished Hermione would come back and cast another charm and then crawl under the blankets with him to keep him warm. He thought about her crawling into his lap the night she'd woken screaming and how warm she'd felt against him. He'd wanted so badly to kiss her in the kitchen, to lean down, and capture her lips with his. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Hermione, to hold her without layers of cotton and flannel between them. He hadn't lied to Harry. He didn't touch her while she was laid out naked before him, but oh, how he'd wanted to. The urge to stroke her breasts had been powerful, but he'd covered her with the blanket instead. In his dreams, she opened her eyes instead of remaining unconscious. She'd taken his hand and lifted it to her breast as Lavender had once done, but in his dream, it was so much better than being with Lavender. He shivered again and snuggled deeper into the blanket. Hermione couldn't want that though. Sure, she'd taken care of him, when he'd come in cold and wet, and held him while he sobbed like a baby. So embarrassing. She was his best friend. He knew she loved him that way, but did she love him the other way, the way he loved her? He thought there was a time when she did, but he had wrecked that, hadn't he? He could still see the hurt and anger on her face when she'd sent those canaries after him, and even worse, he could still hear her anguished cries begging him not to leave in the forest. Her hurt and rage when he'd returned had made the canaries seem mild. He was positive that the only reason he still had his bollocks at all was Harry's unwillingness to give Hermione back her wand in the midst of her fury. He saw, for a moment, Harry's point about her and Bellatrix. Hermione could be a powerful, dangerous witch. Her passions ran deep to be sure. He wanted her. He wanted her so, so much.

xxx

The next day found them back in conference with Griphook in the little bedroom downstairs. Harry noticed the walnut wand was no longer on the bedside table and wondered if Hermione had it on her or if she'd put it in her cavernous bag. He didn't ask, unwilling to push the point with Hermione or Ron. They'd settled on a path to the LeStrange vault and Griphook had been doing more detailed maps. The goblin was bad company, but a surprisingly good artist, and his renderings of the vaults and tunnels beneath Gringott's were quite detailed. Griphook was describing the process for accessing a vault. Going over every procedure: what the goblins would ask, how Hermione would have to present her wand as Bellatrix, the questions she might have to answer. The primary concern was that, given the current climate, security might have changed. It was likely to have been tightened and Griphook wasn't sure what form that would take. He could speculate, but that was all.

When they finally took a break before lunch, Harry went into the kitchen to get a cup of tea. Ron and Hermione had declined in favor of stepping out for a bit of fresh air. Dean was in the kitchen with Fleur, reaching for something on the top shelf of a cabinet where they kept extra supplies. He handed it to her and Harry felt a twinge of envy. Why had Ginny ever left this guy? He was tall and good-looking with an easy smile. The weight of the world wasn't on Dean's shoulders. Dean's hair didn't stick out in a million different directions. Instead it stayed neatly in place more closely cropped now than he'd worn it in school. To add insult to injury he had a full beard now like a grown man. Harry had been uncomfortable with the idea of staying in such close quarters with Ginny's ex-boyfriend. The cottage was even worse than sharing the dorm with him in school, but Dean was disarmingly easy to be around. The bastard. Harry didn't usually let himself think about Ginny, but she slipped into his dreams at night when he couldn't help it: her soft skin beneath his hands, her wonderful mouth in all the best places. Ginny, beautiful, irrepressible Ginny, she took his breath away. He couldn't help wondering if Dean had the same dreams, if Dean might even have had the same experiences with her. Ginny was no wallflower and she didn't analyze everything to death and weigh every decision with measured precision like Hermione did. Ginny lived in the moment. Ginny did what she wanted, and at one point, she had wanted Dean. Harry looked at him towering next to Fleur and felt his gut twist. The bloody bastard. Dean picked up his drawing pad and went back into the parlor and Harry pushed the petty thoughts out of his mind. He'd be incredibly lucky to even survive this bloody war, stewing over Dean wasn't going to get him anywhere.

xxx

After lunch, Bill, Dean, and Luna went out to gather driftwood after last night's storm. Hermione knew it wasn't safe for Muggles to burn driftwood, but the magical wood stove in the cottage didn't seem effected by it, and Bill and Fleur kept a big pile of it next to the cottage. Griphook announced he was going upstairs for a nap. Ron and Harry went to play chess and Hermione decided to help Fleur with the laundry before returning to her book.

When Hermione stepped outside, Fleur was bent backwards with her hands on her lower back stretching.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

Fleur chuckled. "I'm fine. It's the start of the full moon and Bill has a tendency to get edgy. I'm doing what I can to keep him calm. You know how Weasley men are," she said knowingly.

Hermione could feel herself blush. "I really don't," she said quietly.

Fleur looked at her. "No? But I thought you and Ron…"

Hermione shook her head and busied herself sorting clothes.

"Oh," Fleur said quietly. "I just assumed…all that time on the run and you seem so close."

"We are close," Hermione said. "Just not that close. There's very little privacy in a tent." She paused. "And then he left."

"Ah," Fleur said. "Yes. He showed up here in quite a state."

"Yes, well," Hermione said tightly. "He left us in a quite a state as well." She tossed a shirt into the wash basin with some other darks.

"He was here for weeks," Fleur continued, "with no explanation about where he'd been or what he'd been doing. And then he left just as suddenly with only a brief note that he'd gone back to you. Bill was quite upset."

"The timing of his return was good, I'll grant him that," Hermione said. "He couldn't have picked a better time to come back to us."

"The note didn't mention Harry."

Hermione looked up.

"It just said 'I know where Hermione is. I've gone to find her.'"

Hermione nodded. "Right," she said. She knew Ron's story of her voice coming from the Deluminator, saying his name, and then the little ball of light guiding him where to Apparate, but it was different somehow hearing that he'd left such a statement about her in a note to his brother.

Fleur smiled at her sympathetically and went back to the laundry.

xxx

That night, Ron woke to Dean muttering a steady stream of expletives in his sleep and thrashing about on the sofa. "Dean," Ron said. "Hey, it's okay. You're dreaming," but Dean didn't wake up, he just got louder.

Not wanting him to wake the whole house, Ron put a hand on his shoulder and nudged him. "Dean."

Dean popped up wild-eyed. "No!" he shouted and took a swing at Ron connecting with his nose. There was a sickly crunching sound.

"Hey!" Ron shouted holding his arms up to protect his face from another hit. "Wake up!"

Harry shouted "Protego!" and Dean's next punch bounced off Ron as a shimmering shield formed between them. Behind them a lamp was lit and Hermione and Luna stood in the doorway. Bill and Fleur came thundering down the stairs.

"What's happening?" Bill shouted. He and Fleur both had their wands ready for battle.

"It's okay," Harry said, stepping in front of Ron. "Dean had a nightmare. We're alright."

Dean was still panting on the sofa. "I'm so sorry," he gasped.

Fleur nudged Bill back upstairs and Hermione and Luna went into the parlor. Luna sat next to Dean and put her hand on his arm. "You're okay," she said softly.

He nodded.

Hermione looked at Ron who was holding his nose. Blood was trickling through his fingers. "You're bleeding," she said softly.

"Can you fix this, please?" Ron said thickly.

Hermione looked down at the wand in her hand. "I don't know. Episkey is a more complicated spell than I've tried with this."

"I can do it," Harry said, holding up his wand. "Episkey."

Ron's nose snapped into place and he could breathe normally again. "Thanks," he said.

"Come on," Hermione said to Ron. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He followed her into the bathroom where she wet a washcloth at the sink and handed it to him. He wiped his face and washed his hands. When he turned around, Hermione used her wand to siphon the blood off his pajama shirt. As he watched her do it, he said, "If you know this spell, why couldn't you get the blood out of that shirt of yours?"

"Different kind of blood," Hermione said.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

"You know Harry was bitten in Godric's Hollow by you-know-who's snake. It must have been like being cursed because the snake's a Horcrux. I couldn't get the wound to close with Dittany and I couldn't get the blood out of my shirt."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Ron said. "What the hell were you doing there? We agreed that it was too dangerous to go."

Hermione scowled at him. "And then you left and things changed."

Ron shook his head. "I would expect you to have more fucking sense than to do that."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and tightened her jaw. "Don't curse at me, Ronald." It had been ages since she'd complained about his language. She pulled her wand back. "You're clean. Go back to bed," she said, dismissing him, as though he were a child. She turned to go. The exchange irritated him, but also turned him on. He had a tremendous desire to grab her arm and turn her around and show her that he wasn't a kid anymore, but he reined himself in. She was in no mood to be toyed with. He'd obviously struck a nerve. Besides, this wasn't the time or the place. Too many bloody people around, but weren't there always?

xxx

Hermione was on the beach, on what would be her last night in Spain, under a gibbous moon and a thousand twinkling stars. Stretched out on a thin blanket on the sand, she looked down not to see the blonde hair of her French Muggle boyfriend at the time, but Ron's red hair. It was Ron's mouth on her breast; Ron's hand in her knickers; Ron's fingers inside her. She came so hard it woke her. Hermione pushed the curtain of hair back from her forehead and rolled on to her side. It was much later in the morning than she usually woke and she was happy to see that Luna was already up and gone. She understood that everyone had sex dreams, but that didn't mean she was comfortable having one with Luna in the room.

Ron. His comments from last night came flooding back to her and it irritated her even more that she'd had a dream about him. That he'd had the audacity to comment on what she and Harry did while he was gone infuriated her. Who was he to say where they should have gone and what they should have done while he stayed warm and well-fed in Shell Cottage with his brother and his brother's beautiful French Veela wife? She rolled out of bed and began pulling on clothes, which irritated her further. Even clean and repaired all her clothes were tatty and too big. She felt like a waif every time she got dressed. Using the bloody walnut wand to braid her hair just made everything that much worse.

She went to wash her face before going into the kitchen. Everyone else was already at the table eating breakfast. Hermione didn't bother sitting down and just poured herself a cup of tea and headed for the door.

"Oi," Ron said. "Where are you going?"

"To practice," Hermione said tightly.

"Sit down and eat first," Ron said gruffly.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Oh, he's in charge now, is he?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, caught off guard by the question.

"Huh," Hermione said, looking back at Ron. It was as if only the three of them were in the room. "I thought not." She took her cup of tea, grabbed her coat, and marched out. She didn't slam the front door behind her, but she didn't shut it quietly either.

Ron got to his feet. "Bloody hell," he grumbled, as he pulled over two pieces of toast and began piling eggs and bacon on them to make a sandwich.

"What are you doing?" Harry said.

"What does it look like?" Ron snapped. "She can't afford to skip meals any more than you can." He wrapped the sandwich in a napkin and left the table, grabbing his coat on the way out the door.

"Good luck with that, mate," Dean said quietly.

Luna snorted some pumpkin juice out of her nose and everyone but Harry laughed. Harry sensed a screaming row on the horizon and he wasn't sure if that meant Ron and Hermione were finally back to normal or if it would just be foreplay and things were about to get really weird. Perhaps the others were wondering the same thing since no one else ventured outside that morning.


	4. Garden Gnome

Ron stuffed the sandwich in the front pocket of his coat as he stormed down the beach. He could see her walking ahead of him past the outcrop. Periodically, she flicked the wand and a shell or pebble would go sailing into the sea. Eventually, she stopped. She didn't seem to notice him down the shore. She waved the wand again and a large pile of seaweed flew high into the air over the water. She flicked her wand again and a flash of red light set it on fire before it fell into the waves. Ron kept walking toward her. She finally noticed his approach and turned toward him.

He stopped about a meter out and they both stood staring at each other. It made him slightly nervous that she still had the wand clenched tightly in her fist, and he could see by the expression on her face that she was aggravated. When he didn't say anything she shouted, "What?"

He frowned. "I brought you a sandwich."

"I said I wasn't hungry," she snapped.

"I know what you said and it doesn't matter," Ron insisted. "You need to eat."

"How I feel doesn't matter?" Hermione said. "Why is that no surprise coming from you? What business is it of yours whether or not I eat?"

Ron felt like the conversation was slipping away from him. He'd come out here to do the right thing, to take care of her. Why was she so aggro about it? "Of course, it's my business," Ron said as calmly as he could. "You've been starving in the woods for months. You can't skip meals. It's not good for you."

She raised her wand and advanced toward him. "What would you possibly know about what's good for me?"

He swallowed hard, but didn't back up. "I know," he said evenly, "that you knew better than to go to Godric's Hollow."

"You bloody insufferable—" She stopped and looked down at her hand and then dropped the wand. She backed away from it but kept her eyes glued to it.

"Hermione?" Ron said. "What just happened?"

"I hate that thing," she whispered.

"Why?" Ron said, looking at the wand. "What did it do?"

"I don't know exactly. It's like…it's like it was excited that I was angry at you. Almost like it wanted me to hex you." She took another step back.

"But you didn't," Ron said, giving her a half smile. "For which, I'm eternally grateful."

She looked up at him nervously. "Right. Maybe I will take that sandwich."

He smiled for real then. She left the wand where it was and dropped down cross-legged on to the sand. Ron fished the sandwich out of his pocket and handed it to her before flopping next to her. She unwrapped it and took a bite without comment. While she ate, they both stared out at the waves crashing on to the beach.

When she'd finished, she said without looking at him, "You don't get to talk about what Harry and I did while you were gone. Decisions were made, good or bad, that you weren't a part of and that was your choice. You don't get to judge us for it now."

"Fine. That's fair." He didn't say anything else, but a hollow began to form in his gut. He knew the Horcrux had been lying before he killed it. He knew she didn't prefer Harry to him, didn't fancy Harry, and that Harry didn't fancy her, but he'd left her for weeks distraught and dejected with only Harry left to comfort her. He wondered if the trip to Godric's Hollow was the only thing she didn't want to be judged for. Harry's question about whether Ron had touched her when she lay naked and unconscious in front of him seemed to take on new significance. He glanced at her but her expression was unreadable. She got to her feet. For a moment, she grimaced and took in a sharp breath, but the moment passed, and she stooped down to pick up the wand.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked. "You seemed to be hurting there for a second."

"It's nothing. Just a brief wave, not like a real aftershock at all. I'm fine."

"Okay," he said, unsure how to feel about it. She did seem fine now. He looked at the wand in her hand. "You're going to keep using it?"

"I have to, don't I?" She said with resignation. "Harry's counting on me. So, it's a little bloodthirsty. It just surprised me. I'm sure I can keep it in check."

Ron certainly hoped so. He stayed where he was, ostensibly watching the waves, but really watching her put the wand through its paces. He didn't know what he was watching for, some sign that she wasn't as well as she pretended to be, maybe. He wasn't sure, but he did like the view.

xxx

Back at Shell Cottage, Griphook had slunk back to his bedroom since Ron and Hermione weren't there to confer and Harry didn't like talking to the goblin without them. Fleur had said she was going upstairs to read. Bill was getting wood for the stove and Dean was drawing in the parlor. Only Harry and Luna were left in the kitchen. Luna stood staring out the window. Harry got up to get another cup of tea and looked out the window to see what Luna was staring at. Ron and Hermione were visible in the distance. They seemed to be in some kind of standoff and then for no apparent reason they both sat down on the sand.

"Those two are so odd." Luna said.

_Wow, what does it mean when Luna thinks you're odd?_ Harry wondered. He shrugged. "It's complicated."

"Hmm," Luna said. "I think they make it more complicated than it is."

"Probably," Harry said and left to go help Bill with the fire.

xxx

Ron sat down on the bench in front of the cottage. He'd watched Hermione practicing with the wand until it started to feel like he was being creepy so he'd walked back. He wasn't sure what to do now. He didn't really want to go back inside despite the chill in the air. He felt so cooped up in the cottage and he knew they were likely going to have to spend the rest of the day going over the Gringott's plans with that bloody goblin. He just wanted to spend time in the fresh air while he could.

He heard the front door of the cottage open and a moment later Harry sat down next to him. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Ron said, crossly. "Thanks for all the support earlier."

"What?" Harry asked, confused as to what Ron was upset about.

"Would it have killed you to tell her to sit down and eat, that you needed her in top form?" Ron said.

Harry laughed. "What do you suppose that would've accomplished besides her being mad at both of us."

Ron frowned at him. "She asked you if I was in charge now."

Harry looked at him blankly.

"Because you are in charge. You say you need her to eat, she eats. I say it, she gives me guff for telling her what to do."

"I don't tell her when to eat, Ron," Harry said, clearly irritated.

"But you could. She's over there now practicing with that monster's wand because you said she had to. She's devoted to you and this mission. She'll do whatever you need her to do."

Harry looked away from him. "I know, which is why I try not to abuse that, you prat."

"Abuse it?" Ron said. "How is it abusing it to see that she takes care of herself? Would it kill you to take a second to think about something besides the bloody mission?"

"It might," Harry said harshly. "I think about the mission. You take care of Hermione. She takes care of you." He paused and his voice softened. "And you both take care of me. That's how it works, Ron. That's how it's always worked."

They sat in silence for a long moment before Ron asked quietly, "And how did it work while I was gone?"

"It didn't," Harry said.

Ron looked at him. "Well, it had to work somehow. It's not like you stopped looking. You went to Godric's Hollow."

"Right," Harry said. "Which was a catastrophe. You know that. We were lucky to escape with our lives. And that was pretty much the only attempt we made at finding anything. We moved every day, but we didn't plan anything beyond that. We were out of ideas and just going through the motions."

"That doesn't sound like Hermione," Ron said.

"Hermione wasn't exactly herself then," Harry said.

"I'm sorry," Ron said.

Harry ignored him. "She cried the whole first day you were gone. Then she stopped crying in front of me, but I could hear her crying when she thought I was asleep. During the day, she kept reading and doing research, but I could tell her heart wasn't in it. Sometimes, I knew she was just staring at a book, because she wouldn't turn the pages. Nights were the worst. Whole evenings would go by when we would say maybe ten words to each other. I know because I started counting. With the exception of a couple of times when we were camping close to a Muggle village and she could go to a shop under the cloak, there wasn't much to eat and she didn't seem to care. I know I didn't."

Ron looked at him as if he couldn't believe Harry had let Hermione go to a shop on her own, but he didn't say anything.

Harry continued. "The locket was so much worse with just the two of us to carry it. It started to feel like we were going to spend the rest of our lives in the woods, going to a different spot every day, until we eventually just starved to death, and the thing is, until I saw that silver doe, I was starting to be okay with that as the plan. I'd just starve to death in the woods with Hermione and then at least it would be over."

"In the woods with Hermione," Ron repeated softly.

Harry looked at him. "What?"

"You two were on your own for so long," Ron said quietly.

Harry frowned at him. "I've told you we've never fancied each other."

"I know that," Ron said slowly. "But it's not always about that, is it?"

Harry thought back to Hermione's hand taking his at Godric's Hollow, to the way they'd held each other after leaving his parents' grave, to the way they'd started holding hands whenever they Disapparated. He recalled her ruffling his hair one time and how he'd warmed to her touch and he knew what Ron was talking about. Would they have ended up in bed together eventually? Probably, but not because they particularly wanted each other. It was just so lonely in the woods. A couple more months, maybe less, and it would've been about need not want. Suddenly, he was irritated. What did or didn't happen while he was gone was none of Ron's business. He left. "Not always," Harry finally answered.

"So, you did then?" Ron said so quietly that Harry could barely hear him over the sounds of the surf.

"What?" Harry said, unwilling to make this easier for Ron, angry that they were even having this conversation.

"Sleep together," Ron said.

"Why?" Harry asked, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "Will you scarper off again if we did?"

Ron shook his head.

Harry thought about Ron's desperate attempt to get back at Hermione with Lavender. "Going to go after Luna for a revenge fuck then?"

Ron looked at him, hurt all over his face. "Of course not."

"Then why do you need to know?" Harry asked.

Ron stared down at his feet. "I'd just like to know what I'm up against, I guess." He looked at Harry and gave him a half smile. "Chosen cock. That must be pretty special, right?"

Harry wanted to say that Ginny seemed to like it, but bit back the comment. He snorted instead. "Absolutely," Harry said, but Ron didn't laugh. Harry sighed and decided to let him off the hook. "We didn't," he said.

Ron looked at him again. "No?"

"No." Harry looked out over the ocean. "I don't know what's going to happen with you two, but I doubt seriously she'll let you hurt her like that a second time."

Ron nodded. "I know, but it doesn't matter. I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't make this right. I'm never leaving her again. I don't know how it's going to work if she decides to go off and marry some other bloke, but I guess I'll have to live in their back garden like some kind of overgrown gnome, because I go where she goes."

Harry chuckled. "Well, that'll certainly be awkward for any future blokes."

Ron scratched his head. "I know, but what can I do? That's how it is."

Harry laughed and Ron laughed too until they were both bent over with the relief of it.

"What are you two laughing about?" Hermione said, smiling as she walked up to them.

Harry grinned at her. "Ron's future plans to be a garden gnome."

Ron shrugged and Hermione shook her head. "You two are so weird."

She went inside with them guffawing behind her.

xxx

That night, Ron stood on the front stoop looking out at the surf. The black waves rolled on to the shore looking more like ink than water in the moonlight. Earlier that day, Fleur had finally decided that Ollivander was well enough to go side-along to Muriel's. Bill took him just before dinner. It had been a sad farewell for everyone, but Luna seemed most upset by the wand maker's departure. Having been each other's only company during their imprisonment, the two had grown close. Ron had been more upset by the realization that he, Hermione, and Harry would be leaving soon too. Then Lupin had shown up not long after Bill had returned and his announcement that Tonks had given birth floored Ron. The idea that they'd had a baby in the middle of this bloody war left him stunned.

He heard the door open behind him and Hermione came outside. She handed him a steaming mug of cocoa and stood next to him while she sipped her own. The breeze coming off the ocean lifted the curls that had come loose from her braid to frame her face. Ron sighed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione said.

"Nothing, I guess."

She shivered in the cold air, and Ron decided to make the bold move of putting his arm around her shoulders. She surprised him by not resisting and snuggling against him instead. She wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked her free hand into the pocket of his coat. Something about her hand in his pocket felt boldly intimate and made him warm all over.

"I just can't believe they had a baby in the middle of all this," Ron said.

Hermione looked up at him and smiled. "Wasn't Bill born under similar circumstances?"

"Yeah," Ron said, "but I don't think he was exactly planned."

Hermione chuckled. "And you think Teddy was?"

Ron raised his eyebrows. "I reckon not." He tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer, and she rested her head against his shoulder. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and thought about what it would be like to have a family with her. What would she be like as a mother with a half a dozen little red-headed kids running around? He chuckled at the thought.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Ron said and kissed the top of her head. Usually, he tried not to think too much about the future. He tried to stay in the moment and focus on the task at hand. Get the next Horcrux, kill it, find the next one. But tonight, as he looked out over the ocean with his arm around Hermione, he was desperate for this mission to be over, to win the war, to survive, for them all to survive. He wanted a life with Hermione, he wanted to wake up every morning with her in his bed, and yes, he desperately wanted to shag her silly, but he also wanted to talk to her the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning. He wanted her to bear his children. He wanted to cheer for her as she did whatever mad career she'd end up pursuing. He wanted to vote for her for bloody Minister of Magic for fuck's sake. He loved her. He loved all of her: bitch, friend, lover, mother, minister, whatever she was, whatever she wanted to be, he loved. It filled him to bursting and it was all he could do to rein it in.


	5. Leaving

The next day they spent hours with Griphook making lists of what they would need to move forward. Hermione pointed out that she needed a long sleeved black dress and some boots to achieve Bellatrix's signature look. "At least I already know how to do her hair," she added.

"Her hair is crazy," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged. "So is mine."

"I like your hair," Ron said quietly.

Hermione gave him a shy smile, but continued with her list. "Ron will need something to make him look like one of her minions. We can probably make his boots and pants work, but maybe Bill has a long coat and a different shirt that will make him look more sinister. The glamour will be fairly simple if he's dressed right."

Harry nodded. "I thought Dean and I could go to the Muggle shop. We're going to need to get food to take with us. We don't want a repeat of what happened after our last break-in."

Hermione saw Ron subconsciously rub his arm where she'd Splinched him and felt a pang of guilt. "Definitely not. The problem is, we lost the tent."

Harry looked at Ron. "Do you think Bill might have one we can take?"

Ron shrugged. "I can ask him."

"Good," Harry said. "I think that's it then."

They all filed out of the room with their assigned tasks. Griphook went back upstairs. Hermione went to find Fleur. Ron went to find Bill and Harry went to find Dean.

xxx

Fleur was in the kitchen taking two loaves of bread out of the oven. She looked up when Hermione walked in.

"I need a favor," Hermione said.

"Okay," Fleur said.

"I need a dress and some high heeled boots."

Fleur arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

Hermione gave her an apologetic look. "I can't tell you that and you likely won't get them back, although, if I can return them, I certainly will."

"Well," Fleur said. "With an offer like that, how can I refuse?"

Hermione smiled weakly.

Fleur put the loaves on a rack to cool. "Come on, let's see what I have," she said, walking out of the kitchen.

Hermione followed her upstairs and into the bedroom Fleur shared with Bill. Fleur opened two doors to reveal one large closet. Over half of it were her clothes. "What sort of dress?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Long sleeved, form-fitting on top with a flared skirt."

Fleur looked at her askance, but started sorting through her dresses. She ended up pulling out five. They were all long sleeved, but two of them were way too short, so Hermione tossed them on the bed. "These won't work." She looked at the three remaining dresses. One of them had a scooped neck. Hermione handed it back to Fleur. The remaining two were similar. One had a high collar. The other was a wide V-neck with buttons down the front. Neither was black. One was silver and the other pale blue. Hermione chose the silver V-neck. "This will work. I'll need to dye it black though. Do you have anything, I don't know, like a shrug or a choker maybe, something."

Fleur frowned at her. "Black is not really my color, but if you're dying the dress, I suppose you could dye this too." She handed Hermione a thin shrug that fastened at the neck but left the front open."

"Perfect," Hermione said. "What size shoe do you wear?"

"Thirty-seven and a half," Fleur said.

"I'm a thirty-eight, but I can make that work." Hermione said. "Do you have any tall boots that button up?"

Fleur got down on her knees and began scrounging through the back of the closet. "A few moments later she pulled out a pair of battered high heeled boots in powder blue. "School boots," she explained.

"I'll need—"

"To dye them," Fleur finished for her. "I understand. Is that everything?"

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. For everything. Not just the clothes. The care, the food, for not asking questions, for not throwing us out."

Fleur smiled sympathetically, her forehead wrinkling with concern. "Ron is Bill's brother. You and Harry are like family. I won't pretend to understand this mission or that I'm comfortable with the three of you out there on your own, but to feed and clothe family, to care for them, that is a basic tenet of our humanity, is it not?"

Hermione tried to blink back tears, but one slipped down her cheek anyway. Fleur hugged her. "We'll come back," Hermione said. "When this is over, we'll come back. You and I will take Luna shopping. We'll have our day out. It'll be fun."

Fleur nodded. "Of course."

They stepped apart and Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I need to go talk to Dean and see what he knows about dying clothes and shoes."

Fleur nodded looking at the clothes strewn over the bed. "I'm going to put these things away."

Hermione nodded and hurried downstairs.

xxx

Dean and Harry were in the parlor. Dean was pulling on his coat. "Dean's going to get food."

"Good," Hermione said, "We also need black fabric and leather dye."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"I need to dye some things. Have you ever done that?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "My mum used to dye stuff."

"Great," Hermione said. "Maybe you can help then."

Dean shrugged. "Sure."

"Thanks. Be careful." Harry walked Dean out and Hermione tried to ignore the knot of nervous energy in her stomach.

xxx

Ron found Bill stacking driftwood to dry in the side garden. He reached for a large branch and placed it on the pile.

"So," Ron said. "We're going to be leaving soon."

Bill nodded. "I figured."

"We've got to gather a few things first though," Ron said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Like what?" Bill asked.

"Well, we lost the tent Dad gave us when the Snatchers grabbed us."

"Oh," Bill said.

"Right," Ron said. "I don't suppose you've got another one we could use."

Bill smiled at him. "I do actually."

"You know I can't guarantee you'll get it back," Ron said.

Bill laughed. "I haven't touched it since Charlie moved to Romania. Fleur's not really one for camping."

"That's surprising." Ron smiled. "To look at her, you'd think she was pretty rugged."

"Riiight," Bill said and they both laughed. Bill sighed. "I hate this. You're my baby brother and I'm supposed to just let you—"

"I'm not a baby anymore," Ron said quietly. "And I know it's frustrating. Believe it or not, it's frustrating for us too. Don't you think I'd like to tell you everything that's happened? Don't you think I'd like to ask your opinion on where we go from here? But I can't. I really can't. This isn't some childish game where we hoard information for no reason. The stakes are too high." Unbidden Hermione screaming at Malfoy Manor flooded his mind. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to," he repeated.

Bill sighed and put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "It's alright. Come on, let's get the tent. We should probably set it up to see if the charms are still good and it still has everything you'll need inside."

xxx

When Dean returned from the market, Harry helped him take the groceries into the kitchen where they found Hermione, Fleur, and Luna. Fleur was stirring a cauldron and Hermione and Luna were cutting up ingredients.

"What are you making?" Harry asked as he set the bags on the table.

"Essense of Dittany," Fleur said.

"We're almost out," Hermione said. "And knowing us, we'll need it."

Harry nodded. "Right. Smart. Dean got the tinned food and the dye."

"I got food for the cottage too," Dean said.

"Thanks," Fleur said.

Harry separated out the food that was to go in Hermione's beaded bag while Dean put away the cottage groceries.

Ron and Bill came in from the back garden. "Bill has a tent we can use," Ron said. "We're going to set it up out front. Want to check it out?"

"Absolutely," Harry said.

Hermione looked at Luna, "Do you mind? I won't be long."

"Of course not," Luna said. "We're almost done anyway."

Hermione followed the others through the house and out front.

xxx

Bill showed them the charm to pop up the tent, but it was the same one that worked on their other one, so they didn't need to practice it. He stepped inside and Ron, Harry, and Hermione followed him.

Inside, the tent was a mess. Sleeping bags, blankets, and various camping supplies were jumbled together in one big pile in the middle of the floor.

"Sorry," Bill said. "I guess Charlie and I just dumped this stuff last time and forgot about it."

"No problem," Harry said. "We can see to this."

"You're sure?" Bill said.

"Absolutely," Ron said.

"You're welcome to any of this stuff that you want," Bill said.

Harry smiled. "Great."

"Thanks," Ron said.

"I'll leave you to it then." Bill seemed to understand that the three of them needed a moment alone and ducked out of the tent.

Ron looked around. "It's smaller than the other one," he said.

Hermione nodded, biting her bottom lip. Just what she needed: to be stuffed into an even smaller tent with the two of them. There were two sets of bunkbeds on either side of the tent. There was no separate curtained off area for Hermione. There was no sitting area either, just a wooden card table with four chairs on a large cotton rag rug. There was no bathroom.

"The stove looks to be in good shape," Harry was saying.

Ron picked up a sleeping bag. "These look good too." He threw one on the top bunk on the right side of the tent which corresponded to where he'd slept before. He threw another one on the lower bunk for Harry before turning to Hermione. "You want top or bottom?"

She looked at the bunk on the left side of the tent. "Bottom, I guess." He nodded and tossed the other sleeping bag on the bunk. If Ron stood in the center of the tent, she was sure he could hold out his arms and touch both sets of bunks.

Hermione pressed her fingers to her forehead. She couldn't help wondering how long were they going to have to stay in this tent? She sat down on one of the chairs and looked at the jumble of pots and tools and utensils on the floor.

Harry picked up a hatchet from the pile. "This'll be useful."

Ron looked at Hermione. "Should we bring the food in here?"

"No," Hermione said. "Let's leave it in my bag or maybe split it, some in here, some in the bag so we're covered if we lose one but not the other."

"Right," Ron said. "We'll definitely need this," he said, holding up a can opener.

"If all our wands break," Harry said, smiling. "I suppose we will."

Hermione snorted and Ron grinned. Even though they all knew, in lean times, that extraneous magic was too costly, so they might very well need it. There was something comforting about it just being the three of them again, but as Hermione looked around the tiny tent, she couldn't help wondering how this was supposed to work. Assuming they survived their mad plan to break into Gringotts, they were going to be very hot property. They could be on the run in this tent for months, years even. She looked at Ron as he sorted through the jumble on the floor. Things between them had warmed up somewhat at Grimmauld Place, but there was more space there to move about and put some literal distance between them. Once they'd been forced into the tent, Ron was hurt, the locket was twisting everyone's thoughts, and there were no smoldering looks and dreams that left her sweaty and aching. Then he'd left, and there was only pain and sorrow in his wake. When he'd returned, she'd been too furious to consider moving forward, but now, if they all survived Gringotts, they'd be in very close quarters. There was no way they could go months without one of them cracking. That had become fairly obvious during their stay at Shell Cottage. She blinked and felt her face flush. She was going to have sex with Ron. There was no doubt about that anymore. She loved him. She knew he loved her too, at least as a friend, and maybe more, but that was almost beside the point.

During the weeks that Ron was gone, she and Harry had begun reluctantly inching toward more physical intimacy. There was the occasional stray touch as if they were both trying on the idea. It wasn't what either of them particularly wanted, but had Ron not come back, had they been left out there in the woods for a few more weeks, she knew she would have crawled into Harry's bed, if for no other reason than the desperation of their situation left her desolate in a way she'd never before experienced. Hermione had never minded her own company, but the isolation of the woods, with Harry seeming like the last man on earth, pushed her toward places she'd never considered going with him. But she had considered it with Ron, wanted it, craved it even. If she would've eventually ended up in Harry's bed, there was no way she was going to avoid ending up in Ron's, not if this bloody war continued to drag on.

The guys kept holding up various items for her consideration. Hermione answered mechanically. She wondered again how this was supposed to work. What would it do to Harry if she and Ron were having a physical relationship? There was no way they could keep it from him in a small tent. Even if he were outside sitting watch and they were inside, he would know. Perhaps if they had sex outside while he was sleeping inside. Was her first time going to be on the cold ground with twigs in her hair and bugs crawling around? The thought horrified her. All her experimentation in Spain had been outside on the beach. It hadn't been ideal. They couldn't do that. How were they going to keep from doing it? She wanted to scream at Ron. She wanted to tell him she knew where they were headed and they needed to talk about it, work it out, plan it, something, but instead, she sat there, numbly telling him to keep both spatulas. She stood abruptly. "I should really go help finish the potion."

xxx

Ron watched Hermione walk out of the tent.

"Did you two have a fight?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron said. "Of course not."

"She seems off," Harry said.

Ron frowned at him. "Do you think maybe she's nervous about breaking into a goblin bank?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he said without conviction.

It irritated Ron that Harry was so sensitive to Hermione's moods now. He'd noticed it ever since he'd come back. They seemed to have their own shorthand too. The three of them always had, but now Harry and Hermione had a subset all their own. He knew it was his fault, but he still didn't like it. "She's fine," he muttered.

"If you say so," Harry said and started putting things away in the cabinets and camp kitchen box next to the stove.

A little while later as they were finishing getting the tent straight, Hermione came back carrying two bags of groceries. Ron took one from her.

"If there's room, I thought we could store this food in here," Hermione said. "I put the rest in my bag."

Harry nodded. "There's plenty of space in the kitchen box. Is the Essense of Dittany done?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'm just waiting for it to cool so I can bottle it. We made enough for five bottles. I'm leaving one for Fleur and Bill since their supply was pretty much used up on me and the other four will go with us."

Ron nodded. "That's good." He set his bag down next to the kitchen box and reached for Hermione's. "I can put this stuff away."

"Alright," Harry said. "I'm going to go back in." He slipped out of the tent.

Ron looked at Hermione and his eyes glanced back and forth between the two sets of bunk beds. "Pretty cozy in here," he said.

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Even less privacy," he added.

"I know," she said.

He scratched his head. "This is going to be tough."

She nodded.

He knelt on the floor and started putting the food tins into the kitchen box. "I guess we don't have much choice though."

"No," Hermione said. "I guess not."

"We'll make it work," he said seriously.

"We'll have to," she said quietly.

He reached up and took her hand. "It's going to be okay."

She nodded and wished she really felt like it would be.

He stroked his thumb across her palm.

She closed her eyes against the wave of desire that simple gesture brought. She pulled her hand back and looked at him. His own desire couldn't have been more obvious in those clear blue eyes. This was going to be impossible. "Right," she said. "I'm going back in."

"Yeah," Ron said, setting another tin in the box. "I'll be right behind you."

xxx

When Hermione walked into the kitchen, Fleur had gone and Luna was testing the cauldron with the back of her hand.

"Has it cooled enough to bottle?" Hermione asked.

"I think so," Luna said.

"Great," Hermione said, setting up the little bottles next to the cauldron and putting a funnel in the neck of the first one.

"How was the tent?" Luna asked.

"Really small," Hermione said. "A lot smaller than our old one."

"Oh," Luna said. "I suppose that will be awkward."

"You have no idea," Hermione muttered.

"I have some idea," Luna said airily. "I've been sharing a room with you for several weeks now."

Hermione looked at her.

"You talk in your sleep," Luna said. She took the ladle and dipped it in the cauldron filling one of the bottles half way.

"What do I say?" Hermione whispered. She could feel her cheeks go hot.

Luna finished filling the first bottle. "Different things. You do say Ron's name a lot."

Hermione closed her eyes. That wasn't good. That was terrible. The situation was so much worse than she realized. "That's not good."

Luna looked at her sympathetically. "Like I said, awkward."

"I suppose I could cast Muffalato or Silencio on myself before I go to sleep."

"Wouldn't that be risky? Given that anything could happen while you're on the run." Luna asked quietly.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. She was getting a headache. "Well," she whispered feverishly. "I can't just keep calling his name. I'll wake him if nothing else. Clearly, I've been waking you. It's hard enough to get any sleep when we're out there."

Luna finished filling the last bottle and sat down at the table across from Hermione. "Have you always talked in your sleep?"

"Not that anyone's ever said."

"Perhaps it's just here then," Luna said, with a slight smile of encouragement. "Maybe you'll stop."

"Maybe," Hermione said. "Do I say anything else?"

Luna looked pained. "Are you sure you want to hear this? Perhaps I shouldn't have told you. I haven't been myself."

"No, Luna," Hermione said. "I absolutely need to know this. Come here." She stood and hurried to the privacy of their room. Luna followed closing the door behind her.

Hermione crossed her arms. "So, tell me."

Luna sighed and sat on her bed. "At first you cried a lot, mostly for your mum, sometimes for Ron, a couple of times for Harry."

Hermione sat down on her own bed. "Alright. You said 'at first.' What else?"

"Sometimes you're a bit louder. You seem angry. I can't always understand you, but Ron's name gets said and sometimes Harry's too."

Hermione blew out a slow breath. "Is that it?"

"Well," Luna said, her cheeks going pink. "Lately…"

Hermione closed her eyes and put a hand on her forehead. "Never mind. I know what I've been dreaming about lately."

"You say Ron's name quite a bit."

"How embarrassing. I'm so sorry, Luna." Hermione let herself fall back against the bed. "This is going to be impossible."

"I don't suppose you and Ron could just sleep together," Luna said.

Hermione sat up and glared at her. "In narrow bunk beds with Harry in the same room? No. We couldn't."

"It's that small?" Luna asked.

"Yes. In our old tent, I had my own curtained-off room. We had an actual kitchen and a sitting area separate from where Ron and Harry slept. The new tent is basically one big room with a table and chairs, two sets of bunks, a wood stove, and a kitchenette. There isn't even a bathroom. I mean none of us liked to use the one in the old tent, but it was there in the middle of the night or during storms." She shook her head. "It's going to be awful enough without me keeping everyone awake with every stray thought that goes through my head while I'm dreaming."

"You're not that bad," Luna said.

"I'm bad enough."

"It's probably just stress."

"Probably," Hermione said, irritated. "But that's not likely to let up any time soon. As a matter of fact, here shortly, it's likely to get a lot worse."

Luna gave her another sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

Hermione sighed. "Me too." She stood. "I should finish bottling the potion. Thanks, Luna."

xxx

The next day Fleur was doing laundry while Hermione dyed the clothes she needed to look like Bellatrix. She brought a pile of clothes to be washed and then went back to get the stuff to be dyed.

As she walked through the kitchen, she realized she'd dropped a sock earlier and bent over to pick it up.

"If you're ready to dye stuff I need to throw in this jumper of Bill's," Ron said as he walked into the kitchen and right into her. As he collided with her, he instinctively grabbed her hips to keep from knocking her over, which effectively pulled her bum against him. Instantly, he felt himself twitch. Realizing what he'd done, he automatically threw up his hands as she whipped around.

"I'm so sorry," he gasped.

She glared at him and snatched the jumper out of his hand before spinning back around and going outside.

xxx

Ron stood frozen in place for a moment, relishing that split second when he'd gripped her hips with her bent forward in front of him, knowing it was going to fuel his wanking for the foreseeable future. When she'd spun around, he'd expected her to be livid, but her expression was…he wasn't sure what it was…it wasn't irritation so much as…exasperation, maybe? Could that have been frustration on her face? No. Surely not. He blew out a long slow breath. This was going to be impossible. How was he supposed to live with her in that small tent? At least in the old tent, she slept hidden behind a curtain. Now he would be able to see her by simply rolling over. There she would be, snuggled into her sleeping bag, although, since summer was coming, maybe not in her sleeping bag. Ron shook his head to clear the images of what Hermione might or might not wear to bed in hot weather out of his head. This was never going to work. He had to talk to Bill.

xxx

As Hermione buffed the shine off Fleur's old school boots with some fine sandpaper as per Dean's instructions, Dean pushed a paddle into the tub with the clothes they were dying. Behind him, Fleur was using her wand to hang the first load of laundry and Luna was using the new wand Mr. Ollivander had sent her to dry them. Hermione felt bad for Dean. He was still wandless. Even though she had the walnut wand to use, she wished Mr. Ollivander had sent her a new one. She loathed having to use the wand that tortured her. She even hated that it responded to her so well. It made her feel dirty somehow. She looked up to see Bill and Ron walking down the beach. She thought they were probably going to collect driftwood.

A half an hour later, all the laundry was done and the clothes and boots were dyed and dry. Hermione was packing everything back in her bag when she heard Ron come in with Bill. He tapped on the door frame to her room.

"Hey," he said. "Can we talk for minute?"

Hermione nodded.

Ron shifted on his feet. "You mind if we talk outside?"

"That's fine," Hermione said, a nervous knot beginning to form in her stomach as she followed him.

They walked down to the water's edge without speaking. Finally, when it was either stop or step into the waves, Ron turned to her. They stood in silence for a few more moments not looking at each other.

"I'm really sorry about this morning," he said awkwardly.

She shook her head. "I don't care about that. I…" She sighed. "According to Luna, I talk in my sleep now. I'm afraid I'm going to keep you and Harry awake."

Simultaneously, they both said, "We need to expand the tent." They looked at each other, startled, and then they both laughed.

"I know it's your brother's tent, but do you think he'd mind?"

"I already talked to him this morning. You need your own space. It's not fair to pack you in so close to us."

Hermione let out an audible sigh of relief. "That's great," she said. "That's…I can start right now."

He smiled at her. "Come on then. Let's go have a look."

"Should we get Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Nah," Ron said, tilting his head toward the cliffs where Hermione could see Harry looking out over the ocean with his hands in his pockets. "He's got enough on his mind right now. He's not going to care what we do to the tent."

Hermione nodded. "You're right."

When they reached the tent, Hermione cast the first of two spells that would allow her to expand it.

Ron held the door flap open for her and she stepped inside. Ron lit the lamps with his wand while she assessed the space. She was grateful for the opportunity to think about something other than turning into Bellatrix LeStrange and breaking into Gringotts. She wondered if that wasn't part of the reason she'd been so sexually on edge the last few weeks. Her mind was desperate for the opportunity to think about something other than robbing a bank. She was Hermione Granger. She put money in the till if she took food from a shop while under the invisibility cloak. She wasn't a thief. Not to mention, even with Griphook's help, nothing about breaking into that vault was going to be easy and there was so much they didn't know. Griphook wasn't aware of every security measure that might be in place inside the vault. He'd been in there, but it had been awhile, and with the war going on, who knew what changes in security Bellatrix might have made since Griphook had been in her vault. Hermione paled at the thought of Bellatrix. She was a formidable witch, mad, but also brilliant. Bellatrix was literally an evil genius. Hermione could feel how much Bellatrix enjoyed torturing her. The delight she took in using powerful magic to hurt others was nauseating and Hermione felt it every time she used the walnut wand. She looked at Ron who was using his arms to roughly measure the tent.

"I think we can bump out this side and it'll give us enough room to at least give you a curtain."

Hermione nodded. "I think so too. I need a piece of parchment? I'd like to draw it out." She scrounged around in her beaded bag which she kept constantly tied to her belt. She pulled out a large roll of parchment and cut a sheet off the end before stuffing it back in the bag. She found a quill and ink and set to work drawing out the interior of the tent. "We need a curtained-off area for a chamber pot, unless of course your brother has extra bathroom fixtures laying around in his garden shed."

Ron chuckled. "I don't think he does, but you're right, we need something."

"Right," Hermione said, biting her lip and drawing in a small toilet area. "How are we going to make curtains in time for tomorrow? I should ask Fleur if she has anything we can use."

"I already thought of that," Ron said. "Bill said he'd ask her." He leaned over her shoulder and pointed to the area near the foot of his and Harry's bunks. "Why don't you put the chamber pot area here instead of over by you."

She looked up at him. His face was right there and he was so sweet to think of her. Without thinking she reached up and rested her palm against his chest. His eyes widened a bit and he leaned down. She tilted her head back ready to accept the kiss she knew was coming.

"Hermione?" Fleur said, as she stepped through the flap.

Ron stood up straight and cleared his throat.

"Bill said you needed something you could transfigure into curtains. I have these old tablecloths," Fleur said. "And I brought you some blankets we found in a trunk when we moved in. They aren't pretty but they'll keep you warm."

Part of Hermione wanted to scream and part of her was grateful that Fleur had walked in when she did. "That's great," she said, standing.

Fleur stayed to transfigure the tablecloths while Hermione cast the spells to widen the tent. She looked at the bunk beds on her side. "Do you think Bill would mind if I removed the top bunk?"

"Of course not," Fleur said. "We never use this tent. Do what you need to."

Hermione cast a spell to sever the top bunk from the bottom and Ron cast Reducto and then put the top bunk in his pocket. "I'll go put this in the shed," he said. "That way when we return the tent, Bill can put them back together."

"If you like," Fleur said, clearly unconcerned.

xxx

When Ron returned to the tent, Fleur was stepping out. "It's all done," she told him. "Have a look."

Ron stepped in to find Hermione surveying their work with her arms crossed. The tent was now half again as wide. The left side had two curtains that created a kind of room around Hermione's bed. The top bunk was missing and there were now two blankets on her bed with the sleeping bag folded on top. It might have been his imagination, but the bed looked a bit wider than the bunks that he and Harry would sleep in. He decided not to ask, but couldn't help wondering if she'd widened if for the reason he dared to hope. On the other side of the tent, she had transfigured the bunks he'd be sharing with Harry to be long enough to accommodate his height without leaving his feet hanging off the ends. At the foot of their bunks was now a curtained-off area with a lidded chamber pot that she transfigured from an old saucepan. Like Hermione's bed, his and Harry's bunks now had quilts on them with their sleeping bags folded on top. "This looks good."

Hermione nodded. "It's not perfect, but it's a lot better than it was."

"Yeah," Ron said. She seemed very tense, but it didn't strike him as the kind of tension that had been between them earlier. "Nervous about tomorrow?" he asked.

"Aren't you?" Hermione challenged.

"Yeah," Ron said.

"We can do this, right?" Hermione said softly. "This isn't just suicide?"

"No," Ron said with false confidence. "We can do anything. Look at all the mad stuff we've done already."

"Right," Hermione said softly. "Right."

He reached his arm out to hug her and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. He held her tight and she pressed her face against his chest. He didn't try to kiss her. This wasn't about that. She was scared. So was he. He just held her. It was late. He knew they needed to go in and try to get some sleep before tomorrow. Everyone else would be getting ready for bed soon. He rested his cheek on top of Hermione's head. "It's going to be okay," he said softly. She hugged him tighter, clenching the back of his jumper in her fists. Finally, she let go and stepped back from him.

"We should go in; try to get some rest," she said.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I reckon."

They stepped out of the tent and Hermione cast the spell to collapse it. Ron picked it up and she held open her bag and he set the tent inside. They looked at each other for a long moment. "Come on," he finally said and took her hand as they walked back to the cottage.

xxx

Hermione barely slept that night. Every time she dozed off, she'd be back on the floor of Malfoy Manor with Bellatrix shouting 'Crucio!' Finally, at five-thirty she got up and took her beaded bag with her into the bathroom. The boys were planning on getting up at six, but she needed the extra time to do Bellatrix's outlandish hairstyle. She dressed carefully in the black clothes and boots. She didn't have any tights so she made due with knee socks, knowing the long skirt would hide her legs anyway. To complete the outfit, she pulled some of the old robes from Grimmauld Place out of her bag to wear as a cloak. As the final step, she pulled out the bottle of Polyjuice potion and the little glass vial where she kept the hair she'd found on her jumper. She took one last look at herself in the mirror. She could do this. She'd done it before. It didn't mean anymore to become Bellatrix than it had to become Harry or Mafalda Hopkirk. She took a deep breath and dropped the hair into the potion. She watched it bubble for a moment before tilting it against her lips. The taste was revolting. It was even worse than when she'd accidentally swallowed the cat hair. Harry hadn't tasted so bad and neither had Hopkirk. Like when she'd become Hopkirk, the transformation wasn't nearly as painful as turning into a half cat or even into Harry, both of which had hurt quite a lot, but Bellatrix was another woman, and only a couple of inches shorter than Hermione. The transformation was only slightly uncomfortable until she opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. She shook all over to see that monster's eyes looking back at her. She had to grip the sink basin and stood there for some time with her eyes closed trying to calm down and stop shaking. When she did, she averted her eyes from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom to meet Griphook, who was waiting for her in the parlor. Harry and Ron were already outside.

"Good morning," she said to the goblin.

"You look repulsive," he said to her.

"Thanks," Hermione said. "That's what I was going for."

"Good job," Griphook muttered as he held open the door for her.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm herself before stepping into the sunlight. _Let's go be bank robbers_ , she thought but kept it to herself as they walked up the hill toward Dobby's grave where Ron and Harry were already waiting.

~finis~

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: The Annie Fitch Mysteries: **Exposed Fury** and **Hidden Fury** **(available March 2,2021)** and the stand alone novel: **One Big Beautiful Thing** , available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!


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